My First Tear Drop in Rome Part 3

Think of Me/No More Tears
Think of Me/No More Tears (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hello friends, you surely don’t want to miss this part… phenomenal…look out for parts 1 and 2…

“You’ll be okay,”
He only smiled. I would be there for him. He was the man I loved. Tomorrow I would call and take a day off work. Carl needed me. I was his fiancee.
“Wam,” he called as he liked to call me. He said it sounded more American.
“Yes, Carl,”
“I love you!” he said stroking my hair,” I am so sorry, I have to leave you behind, I have been fighting it, but it’s so real it hurts. I have done a lot of work to see to it that black people get a better life,”
“Yes, Carl you have, and I am very proud of you,”
“Wam, I am dying, but I know that my dream will come true, MLK assured me so. He would fight till the end,”
“Yes he will,”
“Wam, I love you,” he said breaking down.
I hugged his sick self. He smelt of medication, but I didn’t mind. I cried my heart out. It was true he would soon be gone. He began struggling to breathe.
I held his frail body, as he breathed his last.

“No! No!”

I sat by his side for eons not knowing what to do. It was Bob who brought me back to reality, when he came in the morning.

I had been crying all along as I remembered Carl.

“Wambui,” A voice startled me.

I looked up and found Stuart looking at me, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I answered standing to leave.

“ Wambui, don’t lie,”

I ran to the living room and started cleaning up in silence. I finished and was extremely exhausted. I decided to go and sleep. I would clean Carl’s room when I stopped getting all emotional about it. For now, I had to go through the entire grieving process. I would buy some flowers for him in the afternoon.

When I awoke, It was 1400hrs.I took a quick shower, fixed a quick lunch, and just before I could leave, I saw a note on the table.


It’s so bad to see you sad today. I am well aware it is Carl’s anniversary; I would like to accompany you to the cemetery. I will be at the balcony.


I read and re-read the note. How did he know? Who was this man? I was scared stiff. I walked to the balcony, and found him busy scribbling things.


“Oh Wambui! Good to see you,”

“What is this all about?” I snapped, revealing the note.

“I”ll explain,”

I realized we were only sparring. It wasn’t getting anywhere.

“Okay then, let’s go,”

Did I hear myself right?


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