“Dear no one,It’s me again. There’s this old iPod that my friend owns, it contains quite the collection of music, she lent it to me a long while ago but I’ve been enjoying it so much that I don’t think she’s gonna get it back anytime soon (lol, like I would have a choice if she decided to ask for it this minute). I was arranging my room the other day and this song came on, holding out for a hero by Ella Mae Bowen, it’s a soundtrack off the Footloose remake. I think I was the one who downloaded it back then, years back when I first had it, I was still that dreamy girl holding out for Prince Charming. I thought that if he came everything would be alright, I could face the world with him by my side you know? Listening to it after such a long time, I’m not even sure I agree with the message any longer, while it is the stuff fantasies are made of, real life doesn’t quite go that way, not that I wouldn’t love to put the responsibility of my being on a Hero, someone who’d want to fight battles for me, it’s just that I have to be my own Knight in Shining Armor, because like it or not, I already have a hero – me!
But you know where the problem is? I still cannot let go of that romantic notion I had at 16, it’s like in my heart I have this gut feeling that there’s a you out there, custom made, tailor fit for me, down to all the specifics. Many may say it’s an archaic romantic notion but I just know within the very fibre of my being. I know your character, I know you have a way with words, but your talking is never cheap. I know you’re a man of God, a leader, you know when to take the bulls by the horn, but you also know when to stoop to conquer, your humility baffles me because you’re a man who has all the reasons to be proud. I know what makes you tick, I understand your humour, I get when we laugh together at something that strikes no one else as funny, I know when you need to be by yourself because your boss at work gave you a hard time, when you shake your head and kiss my nose when I’m checking myself out in the mirror and you spot a wrinkle on my brow or I’m bawling over a song or a movie I just watched because you knew I would, I know when to make love to you because your team lost and you want to be comforted, I know when you’re being mischievous and you’re laughing at me because I bit off more than I could chew on a project, I know when you just want to hold me and be silent and just enjoy the moment. it baffles me that I know all these, yet I do not know your face, I do not know your name (I should probably go for deliverance in church, it may be a spirit husband, sorry that’s the African in me talking).
I’ve always been at war with myself, maybe that’s why I write these things down while they’re busy forming colour blocking rainbow in my cerebrum and I just need to let them out one way or another, no matter how much I try, I can’t say one is right over the other, that’s tough innit? Because picking one will mean choosing a side and discounting the other as a false notion, which isn’t necessarily true (I probably should have taking a course in philosophy, I think my grades wouldn’t have been bad). So in my world where fantasy and reality are not mutually distinctive, what should I put my faith in, that you’d come for me or I fight my battles on my own, I only know that patience will be my companion till time says it all.
Gloria.
