“Everything that has a beginning, will certainly come to an end. That begs a question of love. Will we not love again?”
He hugged me, we said our goodbyes and he left. That was the
last time we talked. The last memory we ever shared. Sometimes beautiful people
come into your life just to show you that good people exist. They come to
remind you that love is worth fighting for, that there are people in this world
who will see you for who you truly are. They come to teach you how to love yourself,
to nudge you in the right direction.
And oftentimes, these people leave just as quickly as they
came. Every day feels like a dreary, melancholic day. The sky, a canvas
of muted grays, seemed to mirror the somber mood that lingered in the air. I want
to say I am OK but deep down, it hurts.
Conversations were usually lively and animated, now it all feels
like a burden to listen. You told me not to use words like depressed, we are
never depressed. However, I think I am really sad. I have been carrying a
weight of sadness. We had everything figured out, you went all out and I was
the chini ya maji guy. It really felt
like we would actually stop the world.
In this bleak landscape, even the simplest tasks felt
insurmountable, each one a reminder of the futility of effort in the face of
overwhelming despair. A heavy heart, I carried month after a month with each
beat, it echoes with the weight of unspoken words and our shattered dreams.
Every breath was accompanied by a dull ache, as if carrying the collective
sadness of a lifetime within its chambers.
You were not just a friend; you were a brother. We went
through all the emotions. Cried under a Mango tree because of a girl. Yes, you
become brothers when you cry because of a girl, under a tree. I will cherish
every memory like they are treasures carefully tucked away in the recesses of
the mind, waiting to be unearthed and admired in moments of reflection. They
glow with the warmth of nostalgia, casting a gentle radiance that illuminates
the darkest corners of the heart. That is how I will heal. I have been fighting
all along. There were no answers and we were locked up in our own guilty
conscious wandering.
Its settled.
Each memory is a thread woven into the tapestry of life,
forming a mosaic of joy, love, and laughter. They dance in the mind's eye like
fireflies on a summer evening, their light shimmering with the brilliance of
shared moments and shared experiences. You were my friend, a brother I never
asked for.
“Let them go with
love.”
Warmly,
Bridges Mbavasi
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