It amazes me how one could smile and cry simultaneously. This completely discordant outburst of emotions is happening to me right now; something that happens often enough to pass for norm. Most times, people cry and smile at the same time when they are overwhelmed with joy; walking into a beautiful surprise that had never crossed their mind, or maybe it had couple of times , but they waved it off- nah, just exactly how will I get that? Or maybe it’s not a surprise, they were expecting it and can’t just contain the “oh yes! Finally” that is happening to this person that must be them.Or maybe they are about falling off the brink of sanity. Crying and smiling for me hasn’t been about surprises, not since my twentieth birthday.
Yesterday night, I told my friend that I missed some people who I shouldn’t miss, in ways I shouldn’t miss them. The thought of my half-brothers certainly didn’t cross his mind, so he told me to visit these people I miss.
” I lost all the fight in me ” this is the English interpretation of my status on Whatsapp. Because I had lost all the fight in me, I tucked in my ever-disagreeging, not-giving in, and honest self. I didn’t tell him I couldn’t visit them, that I have no passport not to mention visa, and even if I did, I just couldn’t go visit them. Like what do I say after about ten years of not seeing them? Hey bro, I’m your little sister, remember me right? You used to like me. What exactly do I say?
Today, I was in bed till noon. This seldom happens if you go by my first and last names and stayed up midnight seeing pretty little liars till five am. I woke up to a familiar feminine voice telling my mum she forgot her child’s birthday. My brain was on the move without reaching its pedals, like it had calendar on speed dial: 12/12. It’s Bororo’s birthday. It’s my half-brother’s birthday too.
So I’m crying and smiling. I can’t tell him those two words I would rather say to people on their birthday than write long messages.
I miss people who shouldn’t be missed in ways I shouldn’t miss them and this is how I deal with it.
Certain “professionals” say writing shouldn’t be your escape. If there’s anything I love about rules, it’s the fun that comes with fracturing them.
This is the lengthiest piece I’ve written in a while. So yeah, writing is my escape. It’s my frenemy. Serves as lever for rolling stuff off my brain, and sometimes, acts funny, dares me to severe the umbilical.
- Posted in: NON FICTION