A broken friendship is the worst because all you’re left with are memories that play in constant replay in your head. And you can’t stop yourself from dissecting the very scene where everything went wrong and why exactly you allowed for it to steer in that direction.
My mother has a ritual of sorts, right before she travels she makes it a point to call up close family and friends to apologize. I never asked her why she does it but for some reason I’ve silently accepted it and understood the meaning behind it. It’s unspoken but so right.
Words, I’ve often found come in abundance when written down but stop in flow when you want to voice them out to someone. Somewhere along the way I think the heart and the mind battle it out regarding what to say and you’re left fidgeting wondering the ‘just right’ words.
My heart is a vessel of words unspoken that I wish I had said but never found the courage to. It’s when you sat right in front of me and my mouth opened but nothing came out. It’s when my mind made sense of what to say and just took too long deciding until it was too late. It’s when I wanted to press the call button so bad but I feared the awkward silence and having nothing to fill the void. It’s when I cried myself to sleep and never explained my tears. It’s when I wanted to make peace between you and her, but somehow feared the outcomes and repercussions.
Do you know who’s become my best friend over the years of compiling unspoken words? ‘What If.’
“And only when that happens do you realise just how much silence there really is. Silence between lovers, when something really needs to be said; silence from a parent when a child needs some word more than anything else in the world; silences and in betweens and everything which isn’t an answer.”
― Michael Marshall Smith, Spares
I’m calling it ‘dandelion season’. There, I said it. It’s easier to wish upon a dandelion and let the wind carry it away rather than make it come true ourselves. I know the fear makes me shake and I know it makes you shake. I know that the superficial layer is comfortable but it’s like a duvet that doesn’t do its job and leaves you cold and miserable throughout the winter night.
We pick dandelions and consider them our anchor. Every time we have difficulty saying something, we blow one away till the seeds are no longer visible and we can sigh with relief knowing that we’ve wished and that’s all we could have ever done in the first place.
My body has grown accustomed to the harsh surface of the wall and the concrete, almost like it’s become a part of it. I can’t remember the first time that I sat and just watched. And I don’t remember what triggered it but just like that I was in my best suit, on the ground watching life pass me by.
The next time I decided that maybe something more comfortable would be preferable for my surroundings. I took my morning coffee with me and watched in amusement the hustle and bustle of everyone around me. Hurrying in high heels, trying to get a cab, spilling coffee all over the sidewalk and just looking plain frantic. And there I sat sipping my coffee.
The day after that it was scorching hot and I decided to make do without a shirt. The sun beat down on me and sweat trickled down my back. This is why I opted for something colder to drink – lemonade. This time I spread out my legs on the sidewalk and watched at the people trying to avoid them and just like that they became circus clowns moving about and hopping from place to place.
Days turned into weeks and I found my mornings more enjoyable just watching other people live their lives.
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back
ceaselessly into the past.
–F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925)
I think part of him was afraid and rest of him in conflict with that fear.
You see, he didn’t quite know what to expect from himself. His whole existence consisted of being talked down to and ignored. So, strength was never an option.
But that’s just it. His true strength lay in the fact that he would wake up every day and face the adversity. That while indulging in activities that could make heads turn was an option; he never thought much of it.
And just like that he was no longer the animal in the zoo that everyone ignored and walked pass. He became something and just like that every mouth whispered his name in awe.
Only because he persevered and saw the bigger picture. His past no longer stood in the way, but paved the route towards success.
Her bones creak with the pressure of her life. But the beauty of struggle still resides in her.
She has the power to make oceans out of tears and the strength to move mountains out of her way. The wrinkles on her hands portray wisdom – an endless supply of knowledge.
Her every word echoes, travelling to the farthest lands. Her presence weakens her enemies.
She is within us, deep down, unknown to most. A part of her is rooted in our systems, hidden away till we need her most.
She exacts peace.
She is peace.