Half of a yellow sun“For a brief irrational moment, she wished she could walk away from him. Then she wished, more rationally, that she could love him without needing him. Need gave him power without his trying; need was the choicelessness she often felt around him.”

The tangled mess of love entwined in strands of neediness; strands that can be as smooth as silk, and as coarse as a fibrous hemp rope. A need that can feel soothing at times, harming at other times.

I suspect I and Olanna (the character in the book, thinking these thoughts to herself) are not the only ones familiar with this sensation. And, is it not also such, that once the aspect of need in and of one’s lover dissipates, there is a shift, a huge shift, at least on the inside?

When the choicelessness is no more, and the choice – to love, or not to love; to stay, or not to stay – is there, I reclaim my power and my world immediately doubles in size. And with that comes both great exhilaration, but also, perhaps, dread? Because having the option of choice does not always make life simpler, does it?

Inspired to continue blogging on the theme from the #blogg100-challenge in 2017 I give you: The book “Half of a yellow sun” by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.