Thursday, 23 February 2012
Fairytale Live in Change
It was not so long ago I sat in class listening to my teacher going on about puberty, that it was a stage in growth that we would all go through and that it would bring metamorphosis to our bodies. It brought change to all in my group, I personally loved what it brought to me.
I was that kid in that everyone in school could relate to. It went as far as being called Miss Universe because everyone that came in contact with me claimed to have had` a bit of their character brewing in my own. I really enjoyed being the centre attraction, even with my teachers and kids from other schools. I reckon what made me even more appealing above my character that was already of witty nature, was that I was culturally inclined and I was an athlete.
I grew exponentially to my time and my credential had far surpassed the school standards in academics, with that came boys growing fonder of me but there was only one that had my attention. What came as a surprise to me was that he was not even a part of the chess team or a worthy opponent for the Dux scholar, come to think of it, he never did anything for the school. He got into trouble now and then but never got suspended. In the light that we were similar in our difference, we spent a lot of time together and we eventually thought that forever had us in its creation. That is what I knew at the time.
We would toil with chance and risk disciplinary action from our parents as we would sneak off on some nights, hand in hand we were convinced it was spontaneity instead of irresponsibility. The thrill of being in his arms after midnight in fusion with the sweet nothings spoken, used to woe me out of my intelligence and speech. I only managed to wonder the following morning how I got on my back to view the fullness of the moon with no restraint to head movement, braids thrown back grass touching my neck. I wondered in numbness to what happened in the fullness of that night because on this night I wonder still with the numbness as I lay on this bed, still on my back nine months later.
It is three years later and I think of how keen I was at 6teen, I embrace a miracle now from a curse of a Five minute stupidity complex that more than a hand full of girls suffered from smooth talking growing serpents. The vengeance I seek upon him have been are a constant reminder to my forgiveness as she is painted with his complexion and she has his eyes. I curse genetics because apart from God I bore this baby alone. The harsh reality can consume ones worth, which is not defined by a past. I realise this with my own life and the possibilities that have spawned from accepting my NOW, for change to have been inspired or lived out, I had to let go. This child is now my world.