My Life As It Is
By Sonji


Velocity : To move quickly, rate of motion, swiftness, speed, distance traversed in unit time in a given direction


The dust that had gathered on the windowsill blew in a cloud that enveloped me as I opened the window. My bedroom looked exactly as it had a few years ago when I left, with the sole exception that everything looked grey with the layers of dust that had comfortably settled over all the furniture. There was a powerful aura of disdain as if were a stranger and not really welcome in there. The walls hovered over me bearing a look of reproach with hands firmly on hips, eyes narrowed, and ears opened to hear once again why I am back home, why I had, yet again, failed. I lay down on y bed and cried for the first time since the break-up. I could feel all eyes on me now, as the room filled with whispered gossip and speculation from the row of bored soft toys (most given by ex-girlfriends) to my loyal, solemn books. My bed sighed having once again having to bear the brunt of being the recipient of my tears. I guess my room never thought it would be dragged out forcibly from retirement to contain me again. I wiped my face on the dusty pillow and turned around, nearly falling off the bed in the process. I tried to remember how long it had taken me to get used to a single bed again last time. My fingers trailed the edge of the shelves next to me until I got to a sliding door and pulled it open. Stacks upon stacks of DIVA magazines, soap, lube, batteries and an old Christmas card box, which I knew contained love letters, cards, memories of her. I pulled out the box and opened it. A knock at the door, my mum came in.

She sat on my bed looking sad and withered..When did she get so old?…where was I when she did?…..was she missing dad?……will I grow old suddenly too?…..I guess she noticed that my eyes looked like shattered pomegranates but my mum not being the emotional type I was sure she would just sit there for a few seconds and then leave without a word as had happened all the other broken times in my life. Then all of a sudden her mouth opened hesitantly. She cleared her throat and uttered words I will never forget. “Use your pride..pull it out and use it” and just like that she was gone. No touch, no smile, nothing, just those few words. I think I must have stared at the edge of the bed where she was sitting for at least an hour but in front of me I saw my life whiz past. I saw my happy sheltered childhood rudely shattered in my teenage years. I saw the faces of all the people I loved, all the people I lost. I saw myself in all my most glorious, most desperate and most perfect moments. I relived episodes of my life that I had strangely forgotten. I relived them one by one in a loose chain of thought and then I sprung forward again to my life as it is.

I looked down at the box in my hands. I closed the lid, aimed at the garbage bin and threw it…perfect shot! It was right there, right then at that most glorious, most desperate and most perfect moment that it happened. My pride held me and fed me the strength I needed to go through the rituals of break up. I changed my life, threw out a lot of my stuff (soft toys included), met up with old friends and made new ones. I made new plans for my life, cut my hair, changed my clothes style…the works!

The dust is now gone from my bedroom and it seems to have resigned itself to having me around again. One night I woke up with a dream of her lingering in my head. I frowned into my pillow. Wait! There was something different, something missing. A strange feeling came over me and then I realised. Her voice! Her voice was missing from my dream. I made an effort to remember it consciously but I just couldn’t. Someone had once told me that when you forget someone’s voice, you are healed from the pain of their loss. My pillow looked up at me, smiled and opened her arms in embrace. I smiled back happily and snuggled back to sleep.