What keeps you up late at night? Actually what gets you out of bed before the alarm event rings? 

She wondered if she was wrong to ask him that. He was in the middle of arguably one very romantic proposal yet that was where her mind was.Wandering off to the fact that he told her she was his world and that she was all that mattered (At 21 really!!!). This was outrageous. She was practically an error in creation. Lord have mercy on your poor soul was how she ended it with him after giving him a pep talk about wanting more out of life.

She thought about her life. Soon people would ask questions,the pressure would rise but to her this Tsunami dillema people assumed she was in was more like a passing  draft in a pool. So mild it didn’t move her at all. She knew what she wanted from life. She had known ever since she was a teenager. 

There is peace involved with certainty. She was certain that her plan was worth every sacrifice and this peace gave her the confidence and patience she needed. It was how a decade down the line she found herself feeling what people feel during a proposal. Finally she was getting those butterflies and jelly knees. Her heart beat like a blood drum and she knew in that moment that saying yes in this situation was worth all the other no’s before it.

She was what people call over-ambitous and a hard target. She had her life plan mapped out and lived every moment to achieve that goal. She also knew that she would need someone in her life who had such strong vision. That was how she had found him. Years into a prosperous career and a huge following of prying eyes she met a person who understood what passion was.  A person who understood she would never be sorry for not having him as her first priority one who wouldn’t have her as his first either until a chain of fulfilled goals had been achieved.

…sounds familiar? Maybe  or maybe not. The reality is we can’t all be the same and some of us are just wired differently. It’s one of the reasons we have different philosophies of life. The whole point is I’m sure each one of us was placed on this earth with a purpose whether divine or scientific. If your life ends before you fulfill your purpose then the world suffers a loss.

Its high time we stopped thinking about what others will think or what obstacles will stop us. Instead, get your priorities straight and strive to achieve them. Embrace your passions and fight for them. Put yourself first and be your number one priority then align yourself with people who understand this too. Get yourself that life partner who gets that at twenty he/she can’t be your top priority. A person who gets that you have a vision and purpose and a some entity with needs. Align yourself with people who are so driven in life. There’s nothing like being over-ambitous that’s just a word invented to slow you down. Don’t be afraid to shed of baggage and tell them it’s not me it’s you. 

…tell me your first thought in the morning,the last one before you sleep; introduce me to your ambition your sacred dreams. I want to know what drives and how bad you want to get there…

 Get to a point where you have your identity so strong you can’t get lost in another person’s life.




Bad Hair Life.

What exactly is meant by a bad hair day? I’ve heard that saying so much but I’m yet to figure exactly what it mean. Does it even have anything to do with hair or is it just one of those expressions like ‘got up on the wrong side of the bed’.

Oh well…I understood that says from a litterally point of view. Growing up I watched alot of foreign movies and in most of them when a bad hair day was mentioned it looked a lot like my hair. in those scenes the hair wasn’t smooth,it was puffy,hard to brush and totally tasking to manage. Basically  typical 4C type characteristic but I didn’t know that until I was around two decades old.

Talk to an African girl about one of the worst experiences growing up and there is a high chance she’ll mention her hair. By the standards pre-set in the world we were having​ a ‘bad hair life’. All this was before the natural hair movement began.The hair types came up and finally we could all learn how to love ourselves. It came in like a wave spreading so fast and sweeping up all that lay in its path.  It was a beautiful wave that slowly brought an end to all the hair hate  that was destroying us.

My hair has been a testament to this hate. I had to hide it under braids,heat straightening,chemical straightening, a million texturizers and even cutting it of.That last one was a major blow to my identity. I love my hair yet due to some apparent standards I had to cut it of…back to the main point…ahh the wave.

Yes now the world is in a pro hair love era. The era when you can love yourself whether your hair grows towards the sun or it’s towards the earth. Times when I see small girls being taught how to grow their afros. No more taming the mane.  A time where we have dolls with all types of hair.

There’s so much we can say about this century both good and bad but I’m pretty sure that a major mark has been set.  This is the century in which humanity has learned to embrace diversity and to love it. We now live in times where proffessional can walk into offices in dreadlocks ,afros,curly hair,kinky hair,bald and with straight hair. A world  that is cleansing itself of the negative energy that was poisoning our minds.

I’m sure some people think it’s just new age nonsense but open your eyes.Such things are what make and break people. Personally I am glad to know that I don’t have bad hair. That I was simply using products for another person’s hair. I am happy with the fact that someone somewhere thought about the diversity in humanity and shared. I love the fact that I can find products that don’t try to change me but instead support me.  I feel obligated to make sure none of my kids or their friends ever asked up thinking ‘damn I’ve got ugly hair’.

It’s high time we embrace who we are. Whether it’s that thick 4C afro that has magical shrinking power,the curly hair, the straight hair, the silky hair,the hair that feels too oily, that very special natural red in your hair and even streaks of white hair. Diversity is what makes the world so beautiful. No more ‘BAD HAIR LIVES’.

# girl55


Let’s talk dirty

I’m pretty sure the tittle got some of you secretly praying for me. Specifically if it happens to be an African mom (like mine) intersession has began to chase demons away. So let me clear things up….

I recently realised a huge percentage of girls and women I talk to are really shy when it comes to sexuality. It was funny at first how we say bad manner instead of sex  and just call sexual body part in the greatest and weirdest euphemisms ever. On the other hand the guys have met talk about sex so openly and they’ll talk about that ‘fine ass’ when they see it.  Clearly something wasn’t right.

Well I’m going to speak from a point of view I understand. I am an African specifically Kenyan girl. All through out my growing up sexuality has been awkward to speak of to a point it feel wrong. You hit puberty and you are told not to show yourself to men, men are more sexual,  be careful all men want is sex, don’t walk around men… This list goes on and on. When for sure those are not facts we end up believing in them.Its not such a wonder so many women don’t believe in love. How could they when they are raised to fear those they should love…

Then when you get all curvy you have to go through the stress of hiding all that because well… You shouldn’t show yourself. All this results in production of wonen who are so shy and embarrassed of their sexuality. This is how it’s awkward for them to help younger girls be comfortable in their sexuality and the vicious cycle continues.

So we don’t talk about sex ,we don’t talk about how we feel when people touch us in certain ways. As a result so many young girls get sexually assaulted and don’t even know it happened until much later. There’s also the shame when a girl is feeling all horny and because she’s been raised to know such urges are wrong she just tries to suppress it. Then when she starts falling in love she doesn’t know what to do with such feelings.

So yes maybe it’s time we raise young women to know it’s not a shame to be sexual. That having big titties don’t mean you a whore. That it’s okay to wear pants that fit you and all that ass can be flaunted. It’s high time women realised that this euphemism we put is one of the reasons why so many young girls get unwanted pregnancies, messy abortion, sexually violated,low self esteem and so many other issues.

It starts with ending the whole slut shaming. Which unfortunately is done by women. It’s also about saying things straight up. Don’t raise a girl telling her sex is wrong how in the hell is she supposed to enjoy it when the time comes while at the back of her mind she’s picturing her mother in SMH mode. Don’t raise a girl to fear men and think of them as beasts. Her father is a man and her brothers,her male cousins- are they beasts too?

It is such things that make girls who get raped not report because a part of them is ashamed and the other guilty. Guilty that she feels she brought it on herself. So let’s do it…let’s talk dirty let’s go for lunch and comfortably talk with our girls about contraceptives, about family planning ,about how hot we are, about how we like having sex appeal, about how sometimes we get all thirsty… That’s how it’s starts and we can fix issues. We can have women who love being women and in turn know to love. Women who don’t have to swim in shirts and leggings cause they are ashamed of showing of their curves. Let’s be the type of women who can have a sex talk with a boyfriend or husband or girlfriend or wife without sounding like five year olds.

I can’t wait to be sitting with my friends from both genders and comfortably talk about sexual stuff.  It shouldn’t just be boy talk. I mean they’re talking about us why can’t we chip in why can’t we talk about them too. This way we fix so many issues.

your sexuality is like a crown a piece of you that should be a cause of pride and not shame. Anyone or anything that tries to hide that crown or belittle it has to be shut down.’  Jerry Kariuki

….my ancestors must have been summoned by now to fix this disgrace. And oh they have turned in their graves.  (I’m just making fun of African mums not disrespect intended. I love my mom in all her dramatic nature).



Ticking time bomb

I dont own rights to this photo

He held her face,firmly yet so gentle, passionately that she could feel the intensity…That rising peaceful tension that bridged them together. She toyed with the curls on his head as she always did. She knew he loved her touch…His body constantly craved for more.

In that silence with herself so vulnerability to him so exposed, a little tipsy and now in only lingerie she sat on his laps. He didn’t resist her.instead he adjusted himself to make her comfortable.she  loved the freedom in the recklessness she was slowly growing into. Her tongue traced his neck. She knew him well enough to predict what spot the switch would be and she definitely had the skills to turn it on…She wanted this,wanted him . She knew his love for her was real….


He felt every sensation in him hightened. In that moment all there was to the story the two of them. He was eager to respond to her touch. How she played with his hair,how she manouvered his body like an art critic ready to judge the authenticity of a piece. In that moment he cupped her face he would kiss her. He would give her the world without leaving that room…

Queens are girls who got power

************* I’m sorry it’s been this hard. You’re safe here but this isn’t what you need.’

His words sent confusion to them both. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t taken the chance. She couldn’t believe it either. But he was right she didn’t need a quickie to be her emergency response. She needed a solution for the explosive about to detonate inside her. Empty bathrooms were no longer enough. Crying herself to sleep wasn’t working anymore. She was in code black and had no idea what to do. That was how she found herself in this situation. Vulnerable before someone, ready to expose her reality.

‘What do I need? Can you give me that?’

‘You see  love you’re overwhelmed,you need a vent but you’re also a queen. That status doesn’t allow you the luxury of feeling.You’ve had the world on your shoulders but make it look like you’re using the world as a stepping stool. But I see you and I know you.You know what you need and I’m going to give it to you’re

His words were just right. She collapsed on his chest and finally exploded. Sobbing and punching him.she let out all the frustration she had kept in for so long. All her life she knew the only way to survive was to put up a firm front. He was teaching her to let go. In his arms as she cried her demons out as she walked out fear she knew she loved him.

He would let her crash then afterwards help her build an empire. He understood that being an iron lady wasn’t an easy task. She loved him for the fact that she could let go of her fortress when with him.

‘ it’s okay…Sometimes you need to be just a girl and I just a boy and nothing else matters.’

This is for all you strong women who sometimes carry weights too heavy for you. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay to be not okay. You do you,keep up with the fight,face the world with your game face on and if it feels too hard it’s okay to let it out. It’s time somebody took care of you.


#diary of 1000 girls

Bright light

Look into the light

They say you can feel it, that your senses get heightened at that moment; every sound is pounder,colours are more contrasted and there’s even more lustre in stones. For those who are into fan fiction you get it more.It’s basically alot like the transition process into being a vampire.

She was at that point. If this was were a fantasy she was about to join the mystical crowd of the undead….But it wasn’t. Reality was that this transition was to something else.  She had a new thirst for life, she wanted to be reckless, impulsive and even dangerous. She was turning into a person she didn’t know. Of all the surprising things what was most prominent was her feelings. Now more than ever she felt things from the deep end. Anger was rage,attraction was fanaticism, and love… Love had found a way to mix with passion and she felt like she was a balloon that couldn’t take more in. 

What she hated from this process was how forced to hide it. At a time where she knew she needed to let it all outher natural reflex was to put up a front. Queens never show weakness even when they are going through the greatest amount of pain.

She sat at the back of the lecture hall,her hands under the desk. The trembling and numbness were back. In such a short period everything had taken a turn for the worst. She had tried being strong once, not taking the pain medication for a day.Her attempts had almost broken her. Unlike  most people she’d spent most of her teen years seeing different doctors she could almost make a directory of them by now.

Finally,not being able to hold it in anymore she got up and left class. She was weak and abit high from all the drugs. The side effect of trying to keep it together. She held back her tears nobody could ever know she felt broken. Nobody needed to know that she had started feeling how people feel just before they walk into that light. She hated that she had nobody to share what she felt with. That soon she would be gone and would have never experienced half the things this world had in store for her.

‘Not just yet’she whispered to the light she saw when she closed her eyes,’I need a bit more time’ she pleaded.That side seemed so much better it would mean no more pain,it would mean peace,freedom yet she longed for another more time in this world.  She wasn’t ready to leave on her early twenties. Wasn’t ready to leave before feeling true love, achieving a few dreams.she wasn’t ready to break her father’s heart. She wasn’t ready to believe that she was just a pawn for someone’s queen.

Ironically, she was also ready to go. She had seen it, seen that better future with zero pain. She had seen that place where here her mother didn’t resent the fact that she had made her broke. In a small bathroom stall she wrote her bucket list. She knew her time was near but she was going to leave with one hell of a parade. She would be a legend and nobody would ever remember her for weakness or pain. She would be associated with love, courage,joy ambition and all the things she had shown in the front she put up.Her only regret would be in not finding that converted ‘love of your life’s. Everything else she had done her best. She could see herself slowly get drawn to the bright light,the aurora of it all and she was ready.

The fact is that so many young people are burdened with illnesses and conditions that take so much from them. They are weighted with such heavy burdens while so young. After a while they get tired or maybe their fight just isn’t good enough and they loose. This piece is dedicated to all young people with different medical conditions. The kids burdened with so much that at some point they stop being teeenagers,or kids or young adults and are forced to save those they love from the ugliness of it all. You are never alone, your fight is worth it and your strength is enviable.

To those who have lost loved ones after years of pain. You can trust that they were heroes in their own way. We don’t know why some of this things happen but they are royalty in their courage, strength and ambition.



Reserved tears

She had assumed she was okay, that she had everything under control. All this had worked out perfectly until she found herself seated on a wet bathroom floor. Wet from both the water she’d been running on the shower and the  years of tears she had been holding back.
She didn’t want to close her eyes. Everytime she did all she saw was anguish,hate and a form of brokeness that was slowly killing her. She has let him touch her let do things to her that she shouldnt have. She had done things too things that the hot water on her skin couldn’t​ wash off. Things that no mouthwash could could cleanse and she despised herself.

She judged herself though she knew she had made the right choice. Saying yes this time had saved her from all the  violence that ussually followed her each team she resisted. She picked the lesser pain to her. To loose her dignity in a way no one would ever know instead of loosing it in a public way.

As she cried her soul out in the bathroom she thought of how many times she’d found herself in such a situation. She wondered if any other person had gone through what she had been going through for more that half of her life. You never get used to sexual assaults no matter how many times it happens.

First time she’d been assulted she had no idea what what happening. She was a seven year old girl who knew that something was wrong. She also knew she couldn’t tell anyone because she didn’t even know what she would say. Few years later when she was eleven it happened again and this time she knew what had happened. She got hat same feeling she’d had when she was seven and immediately knew that she had been assulted at seven at it was happening again. This time before she could tell anyone a story went down and she was the villain. The eleven year old guy who went kissing a boy in class during a class sleepover when the lights went out.

By the time she was sixteen she’d been though way too much to even love herself. She’d been through enough to know telling wasn’t helping. The type of questions they asked were condescending: what were you wearing ?have you had a one night stand before? did you say no?did you do something to trigger him? Is he your boyfriend? Were you alone together?

That is why when somewhere in her mid twenties she was raped by someone close to her shed didn’t even bother trying to report it she simply went to bed and tried to live life normal. That was working well until it wasn’t. That was how she found herself​ in this situation.

She knew she still had to be strong so get up,wrapped a towel on her body, put a few eyey drops in her eyes and walked out of that bathroom like she was okay. You see, she couldn’t tell her father because it would break his heart. The man loved her more than he loved himself and knowing he couldn’t protect his daughter would be just homicide. There’s no way she could tell her mom she on the other hand would just ask the same questions the hospital nurse had asked her and she wasn’t ready to be judged. 

She was done telling anyone since the last person she told called her a slut and went on to be in that very long list of people who molested her. 

The reality is so many women and girls are sexually assaulted ,slowly broken down by the brokeness in their souls. So hurt and alone by the fact that they have no one to tell what goes on in their lives without loosing their  dignity. Statistics prove that most people who are sexually assaulted don’t tell, more statistics show that people whole been sexually assaulted once also end up getting multiple adults in their lives.

This statistics shouldn’t be a reality they need to  change. Something needs to be done. There has to be a way to show love to all this people without breaking them or making them feel worse about themselves. Thing is it’s never their fault and no girl or woman should ever have to feel guilty for being assaulted.

#GIRL 51


 why 13 reasons why ?

Like many people I constantly make the choice not check a series rating before watching it.Like many people sometimes we fail. The biggest issue in liking something with high ratings is the constant fear that maybe  you  don’t legitimately like the series or movie. That your aesthetic preference was biased by public opinion. That was the case until very recently….

I’m sure by now you’ve heard about it and if not then you will soon .The short series that has taken over millions. The one that got a 9.0 rating on IMDB (Pretty Impressive). It took me by surprise too which is what got me to this point of massive reflection when I asked myself Why? WHY 13 REASONS WHY.

Other than that very high rating I love movie adaptation of books…The vampire diaries, Riverdale,lord of the rings,fallen. So if you like books this is an adaptation of one. THIRTEEN  REASONS WHY by Jay Asher.

Well branding is everything. The name itself draws you in. I mean who wouldnt be drawn in by such a name after all it uses on of the numbers that’s the pillar of modern superstition. Personally, the unfinished statement in the tittle did the trick…Like why? Why what? Why 13? And eventually I was like…Why not?

*Disclaimer: there’s a level of spoilers from this point on*

Hey…You can adjust whatever device you are  reading this on…

The themes raised in this series carry heavy weight in the society we live in. The drama that comes along with Highschool the type of drama that can change someone’s life. Then there’s bullying. It’s the main issue addressed in 13 reasons why. The fact is bullying  is almost never physical, that’s just a  small percentage. Most of it is psychological. The cliques and the rude comments. In this specific school we can see it going around and parents and teachers don’t spot it in time.

This leads to issue number two. Depression. The extent and effect of depression are touched. From the girl who was falsely slut shamed,the mom who’s daughter kills herself,the guilt filled kids who’ve gone through stuff they shouldn’t have to go to and even the cool kids who carry weights bigger than the trophies on their shelves.

Lately there’s so many movies trying so hard to pass on the  anti homophobic message. It’s a noble attempt yet sometimes they kinda make it worse by placing certain stereotypes. It’s refreshing to see this stereotypes are missing in this work of art. They bring out same sex couples in a light that feels realistic to me. Plus ofcourse, it considers  the reserved lot of humanity by not being  explicit.

Since I already got into the sex talk. I’ll just mention my other reason why. It’s simple. 13 reasons why is relatively PG.It is the type of show that you can watch with your parents and at the same time watch it with your thirteen year old siblings. For those of us who still close our eyes at kissing scenes you are safe😂.

It’s almost unerving how this show keeps you glued to the screen. It’s like a drug but just the right dose since it ends after only afew episodes. Meaning if you’re scared if TV addiction you can relax. After all we all need closure. We simply have to know all thirteen reasons.

Ive decided to be mysterious and let you figure out the rest of the stuff by watching  it (that’s if you haven’t already).If you’ve watched it I sure hope you learnt a thing or two. That maybe you found comfort through the narration for issues you might be going through or went through.

The end result of watching the show is I’m enlighten. I was actually motivated to make my own list. I choose to call it 13 reasons why not.  I’m going to write my reasons to living. Why I would struggle through all issues in life. Why I will help others want to live and I’ll make a point to be  living my life and not just stay alive.

#girl 50


Rude Awakening

Something different happened as I took my very ussual route to school. Right from when I stepped out of the house there was a difference in the atmosphere.  It looked like a huge disaster had happened the previous night and now disaster management was trying to clean up. In reality,the disaster had struck ages ago.
I leaned on the window of the vehicle and slowly watched the biggest hoax of the decade unfold before my eyes. To put things into perspective it’s April 2017 and in Kenya that means it’s campaign season. The time for the craziest stunts to be pulled off by aspiring political leaders. 

There were trucks on the side of the road and manual labourers busy fixing the drainage system. Blocked sewage pipes were being unclogged and pavements were being swept. Then there was the cliché stunt they pull of every five years.potholes being filled. At this rate this little county was a masterpiece of development. It’s also not hard to miss the colourful billboards no longer advertising commercial products but political figures. In all honesty I’m starting to feel like we are part of some national beauty pageant with all these carefully branding and aluring catchphrases.

We’ve all seen this act before every fifth year the country goes through peak development with so many projects under development and rising employment rates then after elections we hit a four year dry spell with the country slowly being dragged into the mud.

A passenger seated next to me made a remark on how tired he was will all this games being played.I felt a stab in my chest he had hit a sensitive spot. Citizens were basically being insulted by those they entrusted with their futures. I don’t mean to say that citizens take no fault in this situation but the leaders are to blame too. For treating us like fools like children who can be appeased with candy to forget problems.

All this damage control should have never happened in the first place. If only people opened their eyes and realised they’ve been foolish in their greed. That they spit on the hand that feeds them. Instead we have a  huge bunch of leaders who treat us like children constantly winning arguments by making faces behind our backs.

In all this gloom I left that matatu with  a smile on my face. Because another reality dawned on me. Kenyans are becoming smarter more and more people have seen the light. More children who grew up watching a failing system are coming of age and can now vote and be elected. There’s a new breed of Kenyans creeping up on this unsuspecting leaders. A lot of Kenyans asking the right questions. These are the people that give me hope that if not in this tenure then maybe in the next we will have people in power who actually stand for what the people believe in.

Woe unto those hypocritical leaders who think they will rule in this madness forever. True patriots are rising and it will be such a tragedy when their own children dissociate with them.  When they wake up one day and nobody wants to buy the fake dreams they sell. The day when they’ll realise that the true power is within the citizens they’ve so cruelly betrayed.



Blank reflections

She walked past the frame of her shower cubicle into her room. The room was still hot from the shower she had just taken and the mirrors still masked with settled steam. With her palm she wiped of part of the steam so she could see herself. She stood there for a while staring into her reflection as thoughts traced her mind. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually looked at herself in a mirror. All she had done is take the quick ‘does my butt look big? and do I have something in my teeth?  glance every morning before leaving the house. But not today. On this night there was something different.

She felt a sensation rise under her skin and with that she dropped her towel letting it meet the ground in a scandalous rest. Slowly she walked out of the bathroom and into her adjoining room. She could feel goosebumps rise on her skin as she moved to the cooler environment. Her mind was somewhere else…Distracted…Unbothered by the cold… Disconnected.

Finally,there she was standing in front of a full length mirror fully naked… Vulnerable and exposed. She looked into the mirror and what she saw surprised her. Her fingers weakly traced her silhouette and she found herself unable to contain the build up of intensity. She broke down into tears. She hated her reflection.

The girl in the mirror was lost. She was simply a body with no sence of identity. All she saw was an afro,a crusifix necklace,a beautiful face and tiger stripes on thick thighs. She hated that she didn’t know the girl in the mirror. She didn’t know herself. The description she’d give about herself was from external influence. Some stuff she wasn’t even sure she stood for. Her soul was crushed by the blank reflection in the mirror… 

She leaned in towards the mirror meeting her palm with that of the stranger in the other side and with a strained whisper asked ‘who are you?’

What happened to her seems to be happening more often to people today.It is ,in my opinion, the reason why so many millenials are considered rebellious. We simply wake up one day realising we don’t know who we are. We look into a mirror and the reflection is that if a stranger or in worse cases nothingness.So we go out of convention while trying to find answers.

We are brought into this world with a given identity. From gender to race and even religion. Constantly fed with information about who we are from external influences. In the end we grow up strangers to our own selves. Ignorant of our true identity.  

Since we can’t change some things like race or even ethnicity  we have to embrace such things but realise that although we are identified by them doesn’t mean they are what define us. We can’t be locked up in stereotypes of identities we’ve been given by the world. It’s time to know who you are for yourself. Follow a religion not because you were born into it but because you believe it. Wear your afro cause you want to not because it’s a trend for african women, don’t be a good wife cause you’re a woman but be one out of passion for family and if you don’t feel like family then don’t have one and be cool with that.

In my opinion the rising number of people with tattoos and piercings is a result of people trying to define their own identity.(ofcourse there’s the lot that gets tattoos on a drunken spree or as a dare that’s still okay). I think millenials are trying to create their own identity and when they find any form of answer they want to hold on to it. To brand themselves with it as a reminder of who they really are.This shows in their dressing, lifestyle,habits and actions quite radically.

I guess it’s about time we look in the mirror and ask ourselves ‘who am I?’  and make sure we can answer that question in truth. So go on do what you must but in all you do find yourself. Don’t let a stranger be your reflection.



Closing doors

‘should I leave it slightly open?’ he asked her. His hand was already on the switch. This was a routine she had never outgrown.

‘ closed or completely open please. Goodnight,’ she responded and blew him an air kiss. He caught it out it in his heart and turned the lights off.  

This ritual had kept her safe from all terrors little kids fear. The same ritual got her through the rough cramps and sour teen moments. Ofcourse she grew up and moved out and hadn’t thought about that until that fateful day.

Somewhere in her mid-twenties  after weeks of fighting her conscious she picked up her laptop and wrote an e-mail. She was tired of asking herself questions,tired of all the uncertainity exhausted by all the half closed doors in her life.

I’m no even sure how this should go. The thing  I still remember our last night together. It was quiet and even in that heat I felt cold. You didn’t hold me and I didn’t speak. You’re courtesy felt so strained and although we were on the same bed I slept alone-atleast that’s how it felt. 

So when I woke up and found you gone I wasn’t really surprised. The shock came when I reached out and you said nothing was wrong. Against my better judgement I let it be and that’s how I lost you.

So you see I’m stuck here not knowing what happened and part of me blames myself. For being too needy,being too naive,loving you so blindly. I blame myself for not seeing things were crooked earlier. I blame myself for loosing you.  What did I do that was so bad you left without a word.

It feel like ages and my mind isn’t in peace cause it’s stuck in that night when you left and didn’t completely close the door. Monsters can creep in through that space.

Where this finds you I don’t know, but know this I’m sorry for whatever it is that broke us. If you ever miss me or need me I’ll be here and I’ll still be loving you maybe even more. 

She didn’t bother re reading the mail she just sent it to all the addresses she had been given by her informant. You see her brother had left home when she was seventeen. He was her life her bestfriend and he’d just walked out of her life without warning.

Her actions afterwards might have seemed mad. She’d stalked his social media and when she could afford it she hired investigators. Her please was simple she just needed closure. The one thing that could make the sanest of us seem wild.  You see when a door isn’t really closed there’s room for monsters to lurk in. The monsters of self doubt, pity, grief,hatred and even anger. 

Without closure it’s easy to loose the best parts of ourselves. There’s nothing wrong with trying to close doors or in some situations opening them wide.After all doors were made to create a distinct barrier right?

#girl 47