“I will die for those I love,”
-Kanye West, FML Ft. The Weeknd
You’re still a 20 year old.
And a thread close to losing your sanity. But in this apparent storm, you find yourself in a strange calm poise. Your perception of reality changed. You no longer see things as you had before. In full and vibrant colour. But in reality’s colours. Solid colours of definition and finality. Nothing seems to be under your control anymore. Neither are your emotions within reach.
You walk down Forest Road, to school for the regular Legal Systems class. JBL earphones stuffed down your ears. Childish Gambino’s Telegraph Ave on play, drowning your suicidal thoughts.
Grey. Yeah, that’s the word. Everything was grey. It was funny; you thought that this sort of thing only happened in romantic comedies, something off a Mills And Boon novel; funny that something had snapped inside of you like a dry branch in the middle of the Harmattan. Funny how you could walk across the road without looking. Funny at how so alive your dead feelings were. Funny at how quickly you could end your life. Funny at how she wasn’t there. Funny at how it’s your fault.
She was probably the only person who made you feel alive. And you had sought after her with a hunger akin to madness. And as is with life; you never found her. Your hunger unsatiated. Maybe it was the universe telling you that if there’s true love it must not be chased. And chasing is all of you done your entire life. Maybe you’ll both meet again. When you’re both slightly older and your minds less hectic.
You always trusted in the grand scheme of things. In the mysterious and marvellous workings of fate. In the small gods of love. The gods that dared to give you the love of your life only to take her away. The gods that whispered in your ear to tell you that you were not deserving of her worth. Of her love.
The gods that mused on killing you.
But, would you trust fate over gut? Would you make the fatal mistake of letting the love of your life waste herself with someone she didn’t truly love? Someone she dated because it was only socially convenient? Someone she was with because she was lonely? Someone she dated because you were distant? Would you let the subtleties of social behaviour stop you from chasing after her just because she was in a dysfunctional relationship? Just as you were in before?
Such thoughts weren’t new to you. You avoided them. As they only lent so much hurt. So much pain. That you could not have her. To never feel the warmth rise up your chest every time she kissed you, tenderly. With love. Every time your hand shook when she held it.
The first love of your youth.
That you never got over.
And it’s killing you
And in your mind,
If its darkness that would be your end, let it be extravagant.