Friday, September 20, 2013

A TALE OF BROKEN HEARTS


When I was in Primary school, it wasn't 'cool' to admit you 'liked' a girl. So, you can imagine how I felt when my sister tricked me into a confession. She had asked me who I 'liked' in my class and I had, of course, emphatically denied that such a thing was even possible. How can?
 
So, she said – If I tell you who I 'like' in my class, will you tell me who you 'like' in your class? Hmm. Well, if it was going to be like that – Okay. And she said – I like so-and-so. Wow. I couldn't even believe she said that! Fine then, I twisted my lips (a deal was a deal) and went on to say it for the first time in this life - I like so-and-so.
 
Well, as this article is not really about how devious the female specie of the human race can be, I'm not going to tell you how my sister cackled long into the night. Of course, her own 'so-and-so' was completely fictitious. I tried to bluff my way out, claiming my own 'so-and-so' was also a lie, but like Kenny Rogers so eloquently sang - love (or in this case a baby crush) is 'something everybody else can see'.
 
It just shows. And, because it SHOWS, you can't pretend it doesn't hurt (well you could try to) when you get NAILED; like if she (Lord, have mercy) refuses to sit with you in class. What did you ever do to deserve this pain shooting up and down your chest? But you MUST recover before break time, before the other boys find out and slap you with that odious label - 'woman wrapper'. God forbid.
 
Then, one day, it becomes something you're proud of – with your pimples and developing pectoral muscles. So, you're even less believable when you try to pretend that she no longer returning your calls is 'nothing'. My brother, if you've ever laid down on a single mattress in a dark room, or sat on some wooden bench outside your house, listening to, or softly singing under your breath, Boyz II Men's 'End of the Road', over and over again, then you KNOW that a broken heart is anything BUT 'nothing'.
 
It hurts like hell. I can't even describe it. Okay, let me try. When you're in primary school, it's like falling off your bike and skidding a few meters along the road on your knees. When you're in secondary school, it's like when a senior bends you forward and slaps you in the middle of your back, in THAT place you can't quite reach with your itching fingers, no matter how deeply you arc. When you're in University, it's like failing a course in your final year, or accidentally rubbing your eyes just after cutting tatashe, or being stung in the crotch by a severely pissed off soldier ant, still stubbornly embedded somewhere down there. You know what? I can't describe it.
 
But it's what you risk every time you admit that you love someone. In the real world, things can get really ugly; sometimes, people walk away, I swear to you, the exact second you need them the most. But it's a bit like saying you won't take another breath, just because when you pulled in the previous one you sucked in a fly and almost choked to death.  No. You cough it up and breathe again. Because, I tell you this, through all the things that happen between when the sun goes down and when it comes up again, I have reached this conclusion - it's better to have seen a dream die than never to have dreamed at all.


Image taken from:
http://www.thenakedconvos.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/Black-man-Crying.jpg

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