Everything is changing

'Hold my hand, oh hold it fast –
I am changing!' [Edwin Muir]

The tiny, pudgy hand grasps onto a single finger. Its smooth and unblemished skin bundles the object of so much happiness into an entity which is worshipped by the devoted parents. Round, glistening eyes gaze up at their makers. Fluffy hair hugs the round head. Cheeks puffed out, the child smiles as parents' coo.

Everything is looked upon with wonder. Hold her hand - hold it quickly! For not too far in the future, the length of the gaze decreases. Eyes witness less and less, until they witness nothing at all. For the world is contained within the bubble that is her life. It starts and ends with her personal affairs. All else is irrelevant.

Grab her hand. Join her for the ride. Once again, the eyes shift and blink. As they refocus, you can be part of her fast-paced life. You can slot in between early morning coffee and her first meeting for the day. You can be the phone call, the email, the sms that shows her care for you. You can support her as she climbs the corporate ladder and maybe, at the top, she will still have time for you.

Don't let go. Even though the skin ripples and wrinkles, you must hold on. She will need your stability as her life encounters turbulence. Yet nothing is permanent. Every part of her life falls under scrutiny. Even you.

Hang on. Hang on through the trembling and gummy smiles. Remind her of all she has on Earth. Whisper your love for her into her ear. Be her anchor to the world as her eyes become clouded. For without you, she will surely fade into


n  o  t  h  i   n  g  n  e  s  s

Goodbye

"I told you I would let you know – so here it is: goodbye. " - Apologies to RSA department of basic education.

You've always had this thing about goodbyes - it always had to be 'goodnight'. I think you knew I was leaving. With every message, every heartfelt confession, you felt me pulling away. I was sinking deeper into myself. I was pushing you away, resenting the depth of your feelings. I did not like the uncomfortable position you put me in. I was the rat cornered against the unforgiving wall.

I do not love you.

For two years and three months you have played with my feelings. You picked me up and leapt with me into the sky only to let me slip between your fingers.  In times of unhappiness, it was you who I turned to. I felt your presence slide around me as you let your own demons fight mine. Together, we found some silence. We found tranquility. We found escape.

You announced your interest and relished  mine. Five times, we made plans to go out. Five times, you stood me up.

I am no trophy. I will not sit idly by while you win me once more. I will not let you place me on your shelf so you can admire me from a distance. I am not unfeeling. I am not a fool. This time I will  not listen to your whispers of paradise. No, you can not talk to me about our relationship. No, you can not take me out. And no! No, telling me how badly you want to take me out will not satisfy me.

I need something real, something tangible. I need someone who is not too broke, too scared, too technologically incompetent to come and meet me. Yes, Mr IT, I'm talking to you. Next time pick up the damn phone and tell me you aren't coming.  

I used to tell you not to be worried every time I ended our conversations. I like you. I'll speak to you tomorrow. This isn't goodbye. In the past, I blocked you over and over without saying a single word, but you always wormed your way back into my phone's contact list and back into my heart. I promised you this was the last time and that when I said my final goodbye, you would know.

Therefore, to your moodiness, to your negativity, to your crass expressions - so long. I won't miss it. To you - you who have toyed with me for so long that I can't tell the difference between love and hatred; you who once mattered - farewell. I hope never to set eyes on your sorry self. 

You have stepped on my heart for the last time. This is it. This is me letting you know.

Goodbye.