nouveau intricate void

First was a droplet, then the drizzle came about, which soon turned into torrents. Torrents created the floods that swept away anything and everything regardless.

That tranquility in the dazzling sunshine became a memory. So common yet so distant. Who knew you’d miss the scorching sun once torrents became floods?

Have you ever had so much to say but siwezi kueleza? That your thoughts only go as far as writing, kuongea tunaachia wenyewe? Not because we are shy, but that’s just us.

So now, even writing isn’t doing me justice… trying to filter words, sort out thoughts to be something worth writing, something worth reading.

All of the same view say I?

The scowl I wore that chilly December morning as I furiously tried to make the sketches to futility was enough to tell any sane person to back off. Little did I know that Chase was anything but sane. But wait, how could I know that, when I didn’t even know his name, right?

I’d officially had my worst morning and more crap was the last thing I needed. The vexing announcement made by Miss Donna, our grumpy lecturer for the semester, who, no doubt was somebody’s mean neighbour, and to another, the spinster across the street, who kept a bunch of stray cats that were as mean as the owner,had just ruined my day. I’d have to sit for a retake after the holidays following my name being mentioned in her damned list.

I wonder how I found myself in that class, right I picked it, just to try a new challenge… crazy, right? Not really, I’m the typical nerd who enjoyed all the math and lived in the library, mastering the smell of the old but gold ancient construction books.

You all are wondering how I got a retake, hmmm… The test was teamwork and I was paired with our class Barbie, with no room to switch partners, you either work in pairs or fail. Tammy dearest had to get a massage and attend yoga classes to get into the right head space for working on our project,or so she said. I guess massage and yoga classes run for the entire weekend nowadays, with no phones allowed, note the sarcasm, because that’s exactly what transpired. With the work due on a Monday, I had to at least try, but Miss Donna saw through it, and being our kind and understanding lecturer demanded that I sit for a retake even after using my best puppy eyes as I pleaded my cause. All I now have in my defense is that bad things happen to good people…

Back to him, or rather the annoying guy seated next to me, peering at my crappy sketch, not caring that he’s invading my personal space… I cleared my throat loudly for him to snap out of his day dream and back off. But all he did was gulp saliva down his throat, causing his Adam’s apple to bobble up and down. I suddenly snapped out of my trance and realized that I was staring, only to look up and find a smirk on the dudes face. “A picture would last longer. ” I wished I was in a Marvel movie as that would be my cue to teleport. The embarrassment of a lifetime!

Unlike a normal person who would ask for your pencil to correct your crooked sketches, he chose to hold my hand with the pencil in it. How he had moved to stand behind me, with only an inch or two separating us I can’t tell. The perks of being a left hander, when instead he could have maintained his previous position by my right if I was right handed.

This was over the top for me who had reservations about personal space and touchiness. I’ve never been more great full for my thick winter gloves than I was then. They were my saviour from some dude touching my hand. As much as I was on the verge of calling him out, the adjustments made my sketches more appealing, while he made it look so effortless, just a glide of the pencil tip over some piece of paper. Well, forgive me for being distracted by my fateful morning and making amateur sketches.

“You’re welcome.”He said smugly. I barely talk, but at that awkward moment, barely was an understatement. My throat was suddenly parched and all I could do was clear it noisily, attracting weird glances from my busy course mates.

“Lia, perfect!”I shifted my gaze to where her annoying high pitched voice was coming from, and right there, at the front of the room, she was grinning like she’d just landed a better job where she didn’t have to deal with us.“I see you got yourself a new partner for the retake,”she continued, turning to him,“I hope you turn up on the presentation day next time, Chase.”

My puzzled expression slowly changed back to a scowl as I got a grip of what she was yapping about. Hell no! There’re other people from the retake list who wouldn’t mind pairing up with me. Why him? I know he’s better than Tammy who did nothing but still… Could this day get worse? Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t know this Chase dude, but you see, he’s one of these people you take a look at and they’re already screaming ‘BAD NEWS!’

As if on cue, Miss Donna walked out of class whispering that she’d seen enough of our faces for the day, loud enough for us to hear. I gathered my stationery, rolled up my canvas and stuffed everything into my backpack, before starting to exit. I seriously needed to plan for the remaining two weeks if I was to ace the test(of course I had to, it was a damn retake).That included being civil with my project partner.

I mastered all my remaining patience and turned to him, a fake smile plastered on my beanie covered face, “We need to be civil and work together, Chase, or whatever your name is,” I said slowly as I stretched out my glove laden palm for a handshake. “I’m Lia.”“I know love,” he answered, leaving my arm outstretched. “A cocky flirt, gosh what could possibly be worse! ”I sighed, muttering under my breath. I was yet to find out as the next two weeks were unexpected yet interesting.

Have you ever had so much to say but siwezi kueleza? That your thoughts only go as far as writing, kuongea tunaachia wenyewe? Not because we are shy, but that’s just us.

So now, even writing isn’t doing me justice… trying to filter words, sort out thoughts to be something worth writing, something worth reading.

All of the same view say I?

What drew us to each other? Ok, let’s rephrase that, shall we? What drew me to you? Your aloofness,our common hidden immaturity,instant connection and wordless communication.

Did you love me, did I love you?The only way I can answer that is if I’ve known how to define love, but that’s unlike the current case. I had deep affection for you if I’m to label how I felt. I never had a problem with being a loner until we met.

Your aloofness roused in me feelings that I was insusceptible to. The deep affection for someone that I utterly despised,but because of you, that spite for affection could only take me so far.

I concur with the present me that I was quite artless when it came to studying people. I thought I knew you, but come to think of it,I knew the you you wanted me to. I wonder if anyone has actually bothered to figure you out to date.

Maybe that’s how I missed all the red flags,or rather the signals you tried to send, when you put yourself out there… but no, I turned a blind eye. For me,it was “Oh, that’s new, but maybe you decided to make new friends, scale up your social skills,try out something new.”

Of course I couldn’t come in the way of your happiness, that’s what we’d agreed on, right?Or so I thought. For the few days we didn’t exchange words,I thought you needed space, like I do sometimes. But you sneering at me, that was highly uncalled for.

But I let you be, waiting for you to come tell me what was up. I so much look back and laugh at how naive I was,I mean,I actually took time to try and think of what made you suddenly turn cold towards me. But then I found nothing. Thank goodness I ignored the voice that told me to ask you what was up.

I so much wish we could travel back from being friends to just acquaintances. But that is where I draw the line, even a dog doesn’t go back to it’s vomit. There’s no retracing your footprints to find you, you walked away.

I’m not going to lie,of course it hurt me, but I’ve long healed. I honestly don’t get why it hurt me, when there’s like a lot who’ve walked away, but I didn’t as much as bat an eyelid.

All in all,you taught me to let sparks remain as sparks,not to make a fire out of them,a fire that will consume me in the long run.

School taught us how to work hard,get a job and earn a decent living… while they learnt how to own and run systems, live like they’re boss or like they don’t care who’s boss and how to lure us into channeling our laborious wages into their fat, insatiable pockets.

This doesn’t bode well for most of us,but you can’t blame them either. What could be a better moment to swallow the bitter pill than now? Don’t wallow in self pity, instead chase your dreams like you couldn’t care less how far they are.

I’m not your typical connoisseur in such but I’m entitled to an opinion to say the least.

Who told you that you had to stand out? That you were not enough and could never be? That conformity was the way out?

Was it because you’d had enough of being a dork?Who told you that you had to be that bad boy’s wingman, despite how badly he makes your blood boil? Was it just to get yourself an identity,ooh, I know, to get them to stop looking at you askance?Or should I say, Mandy, the manipulative cheerleader’s, puppet? Was it just to stop their snickers and murmurs of ‘such a looser’? Who told you? (Oops, the cliche couldn’t get worse, I know, just can’t help it)

You’ll probably disagree with me on this, but you’re already enough. Maybe you’re actually cool enough by just laying back or rather being whatever it is that they call snobbish. I’m not telling you to sit on your laurels and live happily ever after, though who wouldn’t want that?(Did I just say happily ever after?)

In a nutshell, get up, make up, move on, it’s a brand new day to say the least. I wish I could tell you to forget the past but we all know that’s not happening.The past will always…no scratch that, the present will always get it’s identity from the past. Voilà,a void future awaits. Fill it memories of choice, like choosing to be the protagonist in your story. Let your life line be’I am already enough ‘.

(Pardon my prolixity)

If a word is repeated, it loses its essence. Promise promise promise…pro-mise, pro-mise…two syllables utterly void.I mean who wouldn’t have enough of hearing the same sounds over and over,like a nagging mosquito whining.

Repetition begets routine and full blown routine bears monotony, alias boredom the mother of desolation.

Life becomes beautiful once we realize that there’s never a repeated moment,each occurs once…savour every moment, they come and go, good or bad.