They say rain does not fall on one house alone, in this sorrow period I believe mine is flooded. They say you are stronger than what hits you, they forgot to add it depends on the ‘what’. They say what does not kill you makes you stronger, I am asking if they haven’t heard of “the walking dead”. They say write you would feel better, at the beginning of this, the pain was intensified.
I have tried to grieve but grieve has run away from me, tears now come as mere sobs. Every fiber in me is exploding with emotions that I do not understand, I am trying to decipher if I am awake or asleep, pinching myself every minute. Indeed, I am awake.
Is it that life just believed the stones it was throwing at me were not touching me that it had to throw me a rock, a massive rock, hope now it can see the scars? How do people survive without mothers? I have never imagined it, it used to burn my heart for those that were affected, now I am in those shoes and the heart is at a standstill, the body is numb refusing to blend with the mind.
Believe me, I want to wail, I want to weep, I want to cry so hard. I want to scream but my body would not let me, I don’t know what the deal with it is, it is now a mere vessel carrying heavy weight; that is why I am here asking for help, hoping you talk to this body for me. I fear that I am lost, I fear that I am broken beyond repair; I am scared to come out of this funk.
I abhor the thought of forgetting anything about you; your face, your eyes, your lips, your words. You are now my obsession, I relive every moment we ever shared. I have been hurt severally but never like this, never in this way. I have lost my anchor, now it is like my ship is sailing directly into the iceberg and I cannot stop it, or maybe I don’t want to, maybe I just want to crash.
They say I should move on mum, leave you to rest and just move, they say it like it is so easy but I don’t think there is ever going to be moving on from this; maybe I will just learn to live with it, wake up each day hoping the next would be better.
This experience will change us, it will forge us differently, and it may break us. We will rise above, we will weather the storm. A million words would not bring you back, but I will keep writing, hoping one day I find succor in my words. These are the bickering’s of a bent arrow; because there is beauty in ugly I am not asking to ever be straightened, maybe I am just as useful as the straight ones.
Dedicated to my late mother; Hajia. Jemilah Abdulkadir, I want to thank everyone that has been with I and my family these trying weeks, people that refused to let me sink, my gratitude is in my heart as well as my words. And to the fallen angel, the good ones never live too long, we promise to make you proud mum.