It’s nothing like Chenua Achebe’s novel. I just thought the title was fitting for this time. A little too fitting for my comfort.
No matter how much you will things to be in a particular order, Fate just seems to want things in the opposite. Some twisted sense of play. If it’s a way of making one realize what one wants and really work for it, it’s working. I’m not questioning the logic there. It does test a lot in you. Worse, if it tests different aspects of you – at the same time. It’s just great. You resist getting to that breaking point and at then in a second, that particular second, you let out a deep sigh of defeat. This is all I can manage. This is all I have. Everything else, I leave to You. I’m not really sure who or what the You is.
That second drains you and then one becomes aware of that sinking feeling. It’s not the sinking part that troubles me. It’s in not knowing how long that feeling would remain or how low you’d be when it stops – if it does stop. I’m out of deep breaths and that staring. I make it a point to go out of the apartment or I’m gonna lose it staring at off white paint.
I know somehow, I’ll understand why things are the way they are. I’m looking forward to getting to that part – when I’ll find the reasons why things were they were. I do realize I’ll have to go through the enduring and the dreading and the worrying. There’s no escaping that.
For now I just have to cling to that belief that everything’s supposed to fall apart or float away or fade. It’s the mechanism for one to prioritize and work towards keeping, maintaining, and remembering. If these didn’t happen, one would grow lax, careless, with decreasing regard for the things surrounding.
Some day, I won’t need to convince myself.