The Beginning Of The End And The End

This is how it would be between us. On the day of our parting, I would think very little of it. I would await with you the announcement of the departure of your flight. It won’t matter that it’s been held up two hours. It won’t matter, because the terminal would revolve around us. I’ll…

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This is how it would be between us.

On the day of our parting, I would think very little of it. I would await with you the announcement of the departure of your flight. It won’t matter that it’s been held up two hours. It won’t matter, because the terminal would revolve around us. I’ll mock your airline and give you ten silly reasons why I’d rather walk than sit 30,000 feet up in a white and orange contraption. I’ll mock the color of your box as you wheel away into the back of the boarding queue and shout, ‘One day, I’ll come find you’.

Our ceaseless back and forths, the joy of my every day, would attenuate. One day, I’ll get a picture message from you. While I wait for it to download, I will wonder at what ridiculousness you could possibly have found on the internet from your habitual scouring of it. The image would clear up to reveal a wedding invite. It will be yours. ‘You finally deceived someone into marrying you’, I will remark with a coy-face emoji and wait for your signature, ‘Hehehehe’ reply.

One regular night, I’ll come up with the nastiest ‘The Simpsons’ joke and pick up my phone to tell it to you. 9:41pm would stare me in the face, and I’ll have to resist the urge to call a married woman up so late. I will prevail against this urge.

On an afternoon in August, my family would run into yours. It might be the cinemas, amusement park or beach, but it won’t matter. My daughter would have your name, but your son won’t have mine. I’ll steal two glances as you walk away, hoping you would do same, hoping we would share a stare.

One evening, you’ll come online to find R.I.P next to my name. You will hurriedly open my timeline. You will find more of those. If you’re broken, it’ll be your choice to be. My funeral service would miss you, but not the interment. You will honor a promise of decades, to be at the laying down of whichever one of us dies first. When you throw your earth, you’ll realize that your being there matters, but only to you, for I won’t know it.

On a day, almost like any other, you’ll finally be too lazy to breathe, and then the end will come.

In the end, there will be no end. Life would continue, just not ours. And the marks we have made would wait for the sands of time to erase them.

Responses

  1. Plantain Child
    Thank You For This. The beautiful expression. You ever get that feeling when someone writes something and you wonder if ut wasn’t you that wrote it. Th words swallowed my soul. I was there when you looked back at her, at what was probably the mall 😉. I was also at your funeral 😭 . Thank you for the journey. I wonder if we aren’t living the same life.
    1. Akindamola Akintola Post author
      We most certainly aren’t. But it’s not a sad life really. It’s just life. What we see as sadness is just part of the human experience, and I for one, have come to love all of it.
      It is true that it does hurt to love, to reach for a heart so bad, and yet be left in the lurch. And not because the other person doesn’t love you back or love you as much, but because being an adult trumps being in love.
  2. Tunjil
    Write a response…
    Well. You did drag in my emotion in form of empathy. .lovely, deeply affected by the way the words floe seamlessly.
  3. Tunjil
    well, you did drag in my emotion in form of empathy. lovely, deeply affected by the way the words flow seamlessly and creating something so visceral.

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