True, we fear the unknown but are confident with the perceptible, even what others bear witness to. Has it ever crossed your mind that the human race is the only living organism that holds the knowledge of death whiles living; yet we fear this knowledge.
Yeah, death… not something you would want to talk about, is it? I bet the trees don’t know about death until they die, neither does that lake nor the ant freely transporting those bread crumbs, but you do, because you aren’t dead… not yet.
It hurts to lose someone
It hurts to come to terms with the fact that they don’t exist anymore
No more calls
No more pings on Facebook notifications
No more smiles and complements
Simply, dead
Just like that… dead
All we’re left with are memories that stir up our emotions and the longing to see them one more time.
God please, one more time… just this once.
Death is wicked, I don’t like him. He makes me feel everything I don’t want to feel.
Edward, I just heard you passed on. I’m glad you’re relieved of the pain your body suffered but I miss you, okay?
The last time we spoke, I happened to mention how I’d started writing professionally and was earning incomes. I asked you not to tell, and you said “deal! That’s our little known secret”. Then you went on to tell me how you’d wanted us to write together. The plan? You said “let us write about how the year has treated us. Your perspective, then mine”.
Well, here is mine:
Amazing year, rough lessons, tough love, change; that’s how this year’s treated me, particularly change. This year, my imperfections perfected my being, surprisingly they revealed a part of me I consciously hid from myself. Little did I know that those imperfections were that which will eventually cause me to grow and be wise. I’ve laughed a lot, cried too many, even lost myself. It will be alright in the end, I say, yeah, I know… we all know that if it’s not alright, it’s not the end. But in all this, I’ve lived; I’ve stepped out of bed every morning with both bare feet kissing this cold ground. For this, I am grateful, to an intangible Supremacy I honour everyday. My name is Miz Akwele and I’ve had an amazing year with rough lessons, tough love, and change.
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This is your cue, Edward.
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Edward? Tell us, how has this year been for you… Edward, c’mon don’t be silent.
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Edward
Edward
Edward, say something.
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I’ll miss you, Edward Oteng Maafo. We’ll meet again, this time, without your glasses and I promise not to mention how small and Asian your eyes look without them.
Rest, my friend, rest.