I have seen how all of you write “30 things about myself” and the one wey shock me pass na “30 things about my babe”. So please pray for me that I should haff babe soon. Tenk you so musssh 🤧🥹🥹

Haff a nais day and greet your babe for me 🥹

This is supposed to be my eighth or ninth letter to you but look where I am. I have Letters Six, Seven, and Eight written out and lying in my archive, wondering if I should send them to you.

Why haven't I sent them? 'Cause the content of each of them is just me explaining how pathetic I am.

In Letter Seven, I wrote about one of my friends who almost committed suicide because she was going through a tough period. In Letter Six, you would see the part where I explained why I wanted to go back to the past. There's also me talking about how my sandals got ruined by the rain and how I was asked if I was lovable.

I talked about various random things in those letters.

It's 9pm and I'm listening to Mistakes by Gregory Alan Isakov.

I haven't had time to reflect on things lately due to school activities and other stuff — stuff which just shows up and takes my time.

But then I decided to go through my e-diary yesterday and it just made me realize that I had been depressed for a long time before now. I really don't know how percentage works in Maths but I could say that 89% of my diary entries are saddening events and memories. Let me show you one of the things I wrote.

Hi diary,

It's me again. I guess my entries here have been quite depressing cos I'm growing up, I guess. I met up with Walter after our slight misunderstanding recently. I didn't know how to act around her initially but eventually we had a good time hanging out last night. It felt good to talk to her. I realized two things while talking to her yesterday.

Firstly, bullying can end lives. It's something everyone knows but not everyone realizes the depth of what bullying can actually cause. I've been bullied before at my workplace. I always felt reluctant to go there cos of how they treated me. I always tried to run errands even when it wasn't convenient for me. I tried to please them so that I could at least get on their good sides, but I eventually got taunted at the end. I had a few happy moments there, just a few. But even when I came to school, they still found a way to use me. It does hurt tho. Making a joke out of someone who feels inferior about themselves isn't a good thing at all, it's awful.

Secondly, when you eventually realize that you feel empty, there's this urge to disappear. This deep empty feeling makes one want to disappear. Realizing why people take their lives either because of bullying or emptiness feels so real to me now. Well, I'm happy and sad at the same time. Is this what growing up feels like? Huuuuh!

I also want to cut ties with Gilbert. You remember him right? Well, I don't want to do any flashbacks, so just say you remember him. I want space from him. A pretty long space from him. Maybe like six months or more. We can still say ‘hi’ when we get the chance to, but no long talks like before. You might ask, "what did he do?" The same question Walter asked me. But he didn't do anything, he did absolutely nothing wrong. Weird? To you it might be, but to me, it's not. I just get tired of something or someone and suddenly feel like having nothing to do with that person or thing. I feel like I have a problem, maybe, I don't know. But I know I'm not really fine. I want to talk to someone so badly, I want to scream, I want to cry too, I just want to let it all out. I guess this stage of life happens to everyone, right? I don't know tho, but I never thought I'd experience this.

“How about Dad?” You might want to ask; I still think about him and not being able to picture him still haunts me. I still feel pangs of jealousy when I see people who have perfect families. It's not this jealousy that comes with anger, but the one that comes with sadness and wishful thoughts. I know he's gone but I just sometimes wish...

Well, it's been one heck of a crazy session. How about school? Well, school is fine, I'm really trying my best. I miss HS, really much, really really much.

I want to talk to someone, I really hope I can. I want someone to tell me "you've been carrying this for long, you'll be fine", but I don't know if...

As I said before, it's been one heck of a crazy session, I've learned a lot, unlearned a few things and relearned things as well. I finally understand that life isn't really rosy, it's not all beautiful, it's not all sweet, it's not all that amazing, instead it's painful, bitter, depressing, agonizing and horrid too. It's a combination of everything. Everyone has some problems they're going through but don't we need each other? Even Jesus had twelve men by his side when He was on Earth. Well, life is complicatedly simple.

I'm tired, I should drop my hands for now. Please help me hope that when I come back here, I have a good entry, a happy entry. For now, I stop here.

Thank you!

That's it. October 30th, 2025. I have more depressing entries before and after it too.

So much for hoping for a happy…hmmm! Touching!

Do I blame the people who end everything? No. But I wish…I just wish they could hold on a little longer, just a little.

I guess that's all for now, dear stranger. I don't know whether to title this Letter Six or Letter Nine. Hehehehe! Or maybe not give it any number at all.

Take care, dear stranger. Take care.

Yours sincerely,

The hurt random person whose letter you accidentally stumbled upon.

PS. How are you? How are...you?

I'm tired. I'll say it, I'm tired — very tired. I want to give up so badly. I have no motivation to do it anymore. I keep making wrong decisions. I regret them but it doesn't stop me from making another bad decision.

I'm confused already. Or maybe my bad decisions are just right decisions at the wrong time. I feel like that's somewhat deceiving.

But what would you have me think? I don't know anymore. I'm scared. I'm really scared. I wish sometimes...sometimes...that I could go back to when I was just five years old. That was the most peaceful moment of my life.

Of course I made some shitty decisions. Like coming back home with my food still remaining in my flask, using the razor to cut my hand instead of my finger and watching blood drip while I winced in pain, tripping on my bicycle when I knew that I had no idea about how to ride a bike. I miss those mistakes. I had someone to comfort me while I cried. But now…now…I can't even tell anyone.

Now I have to think about the choices and weigh them all before deciding. Sadly, I end up making the wrong decision and still consoling myself after I see the consequences. "It's fine," I always say.

I swear I'm tired of saying that I'm fine.

I'm not fine. I'm miserable. I'm terrible. I'm sick. I'm suffocating here. I don't even know what I need at this point.

And just so you know, my ear hurts again. I'm suffering. I think it's sad and funny at the same time.

I try to think about other people's problems and wonder if I'm just an idiot or I'm trying to feel something that I don't have to feel at all. It's like I'm trying to force myself into thinking that I'm suffering.

It's 2:00am and I'm listening to My Body Isn't Ready by Sombr.

I get scared every second. When will everything be over?

School takes my mind off anything like this. Hence, I'm grateful for being in school at this moment. I can't imagine being home and having these thoughts.

Tell me, dear stranger, have you ever felt depressed?

My friend told me that she hated how I bottled my problems but how can I tell her that I'm slipping away?

How can I tell her that I don't know what exactly the problem is?

How do I tell her that I feel like my problem isn't a problem at all?

How am I supposed to tell her that I'm scared of being a burden?

How am I going to tell her that I don't know what to do anymore?

How am I to tell her that I'm losing myself? How can I tell her that I'm sort of dying inside?

How can…how…how can I tell her all that?

You know the crazy thing? I'd prefer listening to other people's problems any day and anytime over telling anyone about mine.

I'll be fine. No! I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm perfectly fine.

I'm happy. I smile to prove that I'm happy. I make funny and dry jokes to prove that I'm happy. I talk cheerily to show how happy I am.

I'm really happy.

I guess this will be all for now. I'm sorry that it's quite short and I apologize that it took so long to send another letter.

Let's hope that my next letter isn't smudged with blood mixed with tears.

Take care, dear stranger.

Yours sincerely,

The hurt random person whose letter you accidentally stumbled upon.

Letter Four! Yaaay! I finally figured out what to tell you after digging into the deepest part of my heart. I don't know if I reached there anyway. Hehehehe!

How are you doing? How's the sunset there? Or do you see thunderclouds every moment? It's been raining nonstop here. I actually like it a lot. I shiver under the blanket while feeling ecstatic. You get the feeling, right?

I have another story for you. I don't know if this letter is going to be long or not but I can assure you that it's less-depressing compared to the last three letters I've sent.

Besides, I've been doing quite alright lately. I guess that's what happens when you're in school and have nothing but academics to think about.

I have been trying to eat regularly as well. And I've been sleeping too. That's an improvement, right?

Today is Friday and I'm in my hostel listening to music.

Before I started writing this, I watched a couple of reels on Instagram and couldn't help but remember how I used to feel insecure about my body.

Till now I still feel insecure.

I don't know when it quite started. Like...who knows exactly when they start feeling insecure?? Maybe some people but not me. Two years before I even became a teenager, I noticed that my body was changing. But heeey...change is inevitable. We grow. But for me...I didn't know if I felt good. Just felt so new; of course change is new. It felt so different and I didn't know how to deal with it. I tried to push it to the back of my mind and it worked.

So here comes the teen age, the genesis of the teen age actually. Is that correct? Huuuh...

Well, I got pimples and...it wasn't really obvious to those around me but heeeey...I knew my body, so I noticed.

Gradually, it became obvious to others and it bothered me greatly. I was thirteen! Thirteen! I was now conscious of my looks and how people looked at me.

My school allowed the use of a beret (it was part of the uniform) so I used it to my advantage. Every morning whenever I prepared for school, I'd wear the beret towards the part where the pimples clustered. I don't know if "clustered" is appropriate here but I can tell you that it was intense.

My mother would always tell me to stop popping them but I just hated how they sat on my face. They weren't just tiny pimples, they were huge and had spread out across my face. I felt so bad about myself. I hated the mirror. I hated how I looked whenever I saw my reflection. When people stared at me for too long, I'd assume they were analyzing my face. And some would even say it to your face and tell you that it seemed…“too much”. Or would ask, "what happened to your face?" Disgusting!

I remember how I mixed one of my mom's creams and baby powder just so I could help my pathetic self. Guess what? It got worse and I greatly regretted my actions.

And my face didn't just make me feel bad about myself, my body size also did. I was the only girl from a different tribe in my class and so some of them had this stereotypical view that people from my tribe were "fat". Of course, which fat person was beautiful? None, according to them.

So they'd call me “fat” sometimes and I'd try to tell them that I was just chubby. It made me feel a bit safe, not better. I'm still grateful that they didn't call me "biggie". I always wore a cardigan just to hide myself in it.

Anytime we went for conferences or competitions and they had to arrange us in the car, some of the students would make jokes about being paired with me in a seat ‘cause I would occupy too much space. I'd laugh it off because I couldn't cry. Like...why would you cry? It's just a joke. So I laugh.

I remember one of the conferences I went for with some students. When we passed a speed bump, I remember how one of them said I had caused the car to shift. Everyone laughed and I did too. Was it funny? Yes...for them. Not me.

I don't know if I was actually fat or maybe I just wasn't "slim". I hope you get it.

I always stayed at the back of others whenever we wanted to take pictures ‘cause I didn't want a fat girl with huge pimples all over her face to be seen.

And you know jokes about fat people running and tripping?…I got that joke too.

I felt so insecure about myself that I developed an inferiority complex.

If someone told me that I was pretty, I'd automatically think that they were lying. And I never expected compliments, so why give me one?

I wished every time to just look a little pretty. I wasn't asking for glam and glitter, just look like others that were considered "fine".

I hated myself, have I said it?

Have I written too much or should I still tell you more?

I left secondary school and thought that I was somewhat free. You know...free from the people who made "jokes" about me. I was wrong. I got bullied where I worked. And they also made jokes about me.

I hate this part even more ‘cause I know how much I was used and I couldn't take a stand because that'd be disrespectful. I endured it all and hoped to leave someday.

I left and I was happy.

Do I still feel insecure about my body? Yes!

Do I still wish that I could be pretty? Yes.

Do I still compare myself to... Yes!

Am I still scared of seeing my reflection? Sometimes.

Do I still think that compliments directed to me are lies? Yes.

I still find it hard to maintain eye contact with people whenever I'm speaking to them.

Hmmmm… you might as well say "it's deeply rooted in your veins". It's fine.

That's it for today, dear stranger.

I'm listening to COOL KIDS by ECHOESMITH. I heard the song for the first time a couple of years back and I just loved the lyrics of the song.

Don't worry…I'm fine.

Take care, dear stranger.

Yours sincerely,

The hurt random person whose letter you accidentally stumbled upon.

PS. No PS today. Bye!

How are you? How are you doing? Are you on a vacation? I don't know why I asked but you seem like someone who'd love to go on vacations anytime. Hehehehe! I'm just assuming stuff.

It's 3.00am and I can't sleep. I'm currently playing Cinnamon Girl on repeat.

I've been having troubles sleeping. I don't know what to do... hmmmmm... It feels like I'm slipping away. I wanted to mention that to you in Letter Two but I felt like it was too soon and I could just be lying to myself. It's just a feeling though, it doesn't matter.

I consider it quite unfortunate that I haven't written much to you. Is it odd that I think that way?

I paused the thought of getting a job. You know...I need to be mentally able to handle tasks. But at the same time I need something to distract me from my crazy thoughts.

I did talk about "him" in my last letter and I told you about how I'm forgetting him. I'm sorry that I keep bringing up his issue but I can't help it.

It's fine... I'm hopeless, I know.

I remember asking you if you've ever been in love in my first letter. If you have, my thoughts whisper to me that you have it sweet and smooth. And if you haven't, I don't know the right thing to say to you.

I have come to recognize myself as the villain in all of my failed relationships. Hahaha! Cause why not?

In most stories, you have the villain and the victim and I've heard a greater percentage of people tell me that they're victims but here I am…being the direct opposite.

I'm a sore loser, one who can't handle anything. I guess this is what I deserve for my villainous roles in all of my relationships. And you know that I'm also including my platonic relationships as well.

My life has gotten somewhat worse lately. But it's fine, it can't get any worse than this. Or can it? It's fine. I guess you might have recognized my favourite phrase by now.

What should I tell you about now?

I don't really know —

I want to know about what goes on in your life. You know...it might give me a little motivation. I'm having no enthusiasm to do or think about anything anymore. I've been asking myself "what's there to think about?" And I found nothing.

So what do I tell you about now?

Okayyyyyy…

I could tell you about one of my past relationships, but that'd be a bit boring. But hey! Anything to keep the story going right?

Well, I remember the excursion I went for with my classmates when I was in nursery school. It's been years, more than a decade even but I vividly remember the events of that day.

It was a beautiful Wednesday and we had already prepared for the excursion.

I remember how my hair had beads on them. I wore a brown short and a green tee — that was the uniform for Wednesday. We rode in a bus for two hours or so.

"Where did we go?"

Amusement park!

It was a really fun day. I played on the swing and the merry-go-round. I remember smiling while the photographer took my picture. It was a really bright smile. I could have sworn that I'd wear that smile until I died. I entirely wasn't wrong tho. I still smile, just not that bright.

I remember how I gazed at the swimming pool wishing we could just play in the water. And just so you know, I didn't know how to swim. Crazy!

I remember not wanting to leave cause who would?? Ha! It was an amazing day I must confess.

You know one thing I'll never forget? My smile. It was so beautiful and bright and... genuine. So genuine and pure.

Do you know one of the funniest things that happened that day? I remember staying put on the slide while the photographer told me "say cheese". But do you know what I did? I smiled broadly with my teeth instead.

C'mon! Don't laugh. I was still smiling broadly after he told me three consecutive times to say cheese. I finally got the message the fourth time and then I said "cheese"

Oh well...what did I know? I was only a child! I still am.

I'm sorry if I'm narrating some random dry stuff. It's just one of the memories I can't let go of. I hope you understand. And since my current life isn't so bright or not bright at all, I could just tell you the part where I used to smile with my heart and teeth.

Do you think this letter is longer than the last one I sent? I can't really tell. I just hope it is.

You know that saying?…”curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back”...yeah. You're familiar with it right? I'm not a cat but I'm curious about you. I'm sorry if repeating it seems creepy.

You're reading my third letter and I have no idea about you. I don't want to know your name. I just want to be sure that you're there.

Maybe send me a coloured stone or perhaps a piece of fabric.

A smooth stone? Yep! I used to collect smooth stones when I was a kid. I called them "smooth stones or precious stones".

I'm pretty sure this letter is longer than the last one I sent.

But then I'd understand if you don't even want to give me a sign at all.

Take care, dear stranger.

I'll send another letter soon. I have to be up early.

Early worm catches the bird. (I like the unconventional)

Yours sincerely,

The hurt random person whose letter you accidentally stumbled upon.

PS. My ear is better now. I had antibiotics and it eased the pressure.

Did you get my first letter? I really hope you did. And maybe try sending a response back so that I can know you're with me. Huh…nevermind…it doesn't matter.

How are you? I hope you're good.

You might wonder why I'm sending another letter…

…welllllllll...I have no one to talk to. Sooooooo, here I am writing to you…again.

My ear hurts badly. The throbbing pain makes me uncomfortable and it feels like I'm deaf in my right ear. Huuuuh...pray for me, dear random stranger.

I don't know if I should give you a name or perhaps I should keep addressing my letter to you as "dear random stranger". I guess the latter fits best.

You might be wondering what goes on in my crazy life...again.

Well for now, I'm really doing my best to forget about him and I guess it's working. But you do remember the "him" right?

Who cares?! I'm trying to forget about him so there's no use trying to even remember at all.

Talk about ear pain showing up at a very inconveniently perfect moment.

Hahahaha! And... I'm thinking of getting a job as well.

Pretty impulsive of me, I think.

Just figured that I never told you what my interests were.

Welllllllll...I love to draw, knit, sing, write, sleep and a couple of weird stuff.

Pleeeeeeease I'm not creepy, just weird (but I did sneak up on my sister and bulge my eyes in the dark just to scare her).

Moreover, who's going to give a girl who sleeps all the time a job? Can't imagine who.

I'm corny today right? I know… I am.

My life is a mess and believe me, I'm trying not to crash out. I've been holding it in.

I've been scared about failing in several aspects and I feel like a failure already. I have a lot of failed relationships. A lot of rejected applications from jobs I applied for. I'm thinking of getting a therapist but I'm scared they'll also reject me. Perhaps I've been mapped out for failure.

You know...on my tombstone they could write "here lies failure, embodied".

I don't know if that sounded cool or saddening. Humour fails me. Hmmmmm…

I read a particular story titled "First Time Loser" and I loved the story.

I believe mine going to be titled "Always a Loser".

Oh where…oh where…has my loser self gone?

Oh where…oh where…could it be…? 🎵 🎶 🎶

I can't remember the remaining lines but I'm sure it's sung that way

I'm confused. I don't know what to do with my life anymore and when people ask me "how's it going?" you know what I tell them? "It's going great", "amazing!", "awesome", "spectacular".

I guess I'm good at one thing after all. Lying. How amazing! I guess I'm not really a failure after all.

Tell me, random stranger, I hope your life is waaaaaaaaay better than mine. Why did I even compare your life to mine?

I'm pretty sure your life is as sweet as honey.

And you're enjoying it to the fullest.

.

.

.

I'm trying to make this letter as long as the last one but it's just not working.

Lest I forget, my favourite song is "Mistakes by Gregory Alan Isakov". I played it 102 times this week.

And don't worry... I'm fiiiiiiiiiine

I guess I should stop here for today. Thank you so much for listening, random stranger.

I'll send another letter soon. I promise.

Yours sincerely,

The hurt random person whose letter you accidentally stumbled upon.

PS. If you have any song recommendations similar to "Mistakes", do tell me. Thank you!

The crowd erupted in applause and cheers as she said my name.

Truth to be told, I wasn't sure it was going to work out but I'm glad that we never backed out.

Having been awarded for the best writer for the fourth time this night, I couldn't be more proud of her. Certainly not because she's winning now but because she lost several times and never gave up.

Looking at the lady on the stage with the perfect smile carved on her lips also reminded me of the girl who would spend nights crying because her works got rejected. Not once, not twice and not even three times.

Although...there were times she got tired and wanted to find 'something else' because she thought that this was life telling her that this path wasn't hers.

"Bullshit!" I remember exclaiming one particular night.

"But it's not working out. There's no progress, Tina." Her eyes were bloodshot due to excessive crying and stress.

"Let's just try again," I said while trying to salvage the torn pieces of paper on the floor.

"No…no…" she shook her head vehemently now, "I'm done trying. This is a sign that this isn't for me. I'm tired…I'm really really tired of the rejections, Tina." She was crying now.

"When does it end?"

I embraced her while I patted her back softly.

"Tell me the truth, Tina. Do I suck at writing?"

"Ha! You're the best writer I've ever known and the world is going to see that." I just hoped I sounded convincing.

"Well, the world better see it quickly cause I'm not trying again after this one."

Life did throw another lemon at us — her works got rejected again and it was up to me to convince her that we still had to try again.

She earned it, didn't she?

She got to my seat and hugged me tightly while crying.

"We did it, Tina!" She said while handing the plaque to me.

I wiped the tears off her face gently.

"It's yours, Tina"

"But —"

"No buts," she interrupted me. "Wouldn't have made it this far without you. I owe you all."

I smiled.

We arrived at the venue for the after-party in less than an hour in a limousine.

"You know...life is good now. I still can't imagine what you have happened if I had —"

"No. No. No." I cut her short. "I wouldn't have let you give up."

She hugged me tightly and the win felt so beautiful.

"Alright then…instead of trying to drown ourselves in our tears, we should go inside and enjoy the party."

"Nahhhhh...I have to be somewhere now but you have to go in there and celebrate your victory," I said to her.

"Where?" She probed with her left eyebrow tilted upward.

"Just somewhere. I'll be back before you know it. I promise," I assured her.

"But..."

"No buts!"

We both chuckled.

I took out the paper from my pocket and handed it over to her. "Here,” I gestured towards her.

"What's in it?"

"Open it, will you?" I nudged.

She opened it.

Dear diary,

I got my first rejection letter today. It's terrible — really really terrible. I had expected it from the onset but looking at it being written in plain words just shatters me more than I ever thought.

I love writing. I don't think I have a greater passion than writing. Writing is my way of expression, writing is how I'm able to communicate, writing is my life! I can't see myself doing anything that doesn't have to do with writing.

I wrote a piece a couple of weeks ago and submitted it. Took me about three weeks to get it finished. After I submitted it, I really didn't expect to get picked cause other entries would be sent to the organisation. I just started writing and I'm no pro. But I had this flicker of hope that I could emerge third place. I waited long enough for their response and got it yesterday. They informed me that they'd get back to me today.

I opened my email a couple of minutes ago and saw the rejection letter. I'm shattered right now. I know I've lost a couple of competitions but this one suddenly feels new and hurts badly.

Okay...I get it...this is what rejection feels like. It's terrible. I'm crying right now and I don't know when I'd stop.

I'm not just facing rejection from an organisation, I'm also facing it from someone I trusted a couple of times. Great! Can this day get any better?

It's the sixth time he's leaving and leaving me in this devastated state. Well...I guess life does throw lemons at us after all. It's sad that I didn't get to duck and getting hit this bad was what I never expected.

I don't know how people still feel motivated to continue trying after multiple rejections. I'm really traumatized at this point and I have no motivation to try again.

My head hurts.

My heart is heavy.

My eyes are misty.

My hands are shaky.

I don't know what to do.

Hurray! My first official rejection.

I'm expecting more lemons to be thrown at me. And don't worry, I'll try to duck. But if I get hit, please hold me so I don't fall. And if I fall, please raise me up.

This would take me days or weeks to recover from.

Thanks for this: "You win some, you lose some".

I feel like I've lost all.

Please keep the tissue, I want to see the tears flow.

Yours sincerely,

A first-time loser.

PS. Save this for me. I'll be back here when I win or fail again.

Her eyes welled up, tears already spilling.

This was a girl who was going to throw away her passion because life kept on throwing lemons at her over and over.

"Where...where did you...get this?"

“Uhmmmm…you might say that 9 years ago I was just around your vanity snooping through a couple of stuff."

She was sobbing while listening to me and looking at the paper.

"I didn't mean to snoop or…"

She embraced me. Seems like it's a night of warm and tight embraces.

"I love you very much, Tina."

"You've told me several times."

"I haven't told you enough. I love you, Tina."

"And you're saying it again."

She giggled as we disengaged from the embrace.

"Now go on and enjoy the party. I'll be back in a jiffy."

She nodded and stepped out of the limo.

We stared at each other for seconds which felt like eternity and then she walked inside.

"To the bookshop, please," I said to the chauffeur.

Tonight does seem like the perfect moment to have lemons.

I really enjoyed listening to Mistakes by Gregory Alan Isakov while I wrote this. Do click on the subscribe button once you're done reading. Arigatou gozaimas ✨✨

Do you, dad? I'm pretty sure you DON'T mind cause why would you mind?

So I'll start.

Dear Dad,

You're selfish! You're selfish! Yeah! I said it. You sure didn't think about Father's Day before leaving, did you? You didn't tell me when you were leaving. You didn't tell me if you were going to come back or not and you didn't even think about the people you were leaving.

Now I'm right here hoping that this message gets to you without any hitch.

How are you? How are things up there? Did you see any of your friends? Do you miss us? Do you see how rain comes down from there?

You know, dad…I'd always thought as a kid that God pours water from heaven and it just lands here on earth and I still do think like that sometimes.

Well, I miss you very much and it does hurt that you aren't coming back (or will you?)

I still remember that fateful day in ***, coming back from school and Mama breaking the news to us that you had followed the angels.

Why did you follow them? Jeez dad! You could have told them that your amazing daughters would want to celebrate you everyday — not just on father's day.

I miss you so much Dad.

Do you remember the coin chocolate that you used to bring back home from work?

Now anytime I see those chocolates I think about nothing but you — just you.

And yes! Yes! I still remember that bread you used to buy from work. It had this paper back and it had a design of people swimming. Hahahahaha!

And do you also remember my fourth birthday? You still remember how Mama whooped my ass for messing with the cake before the party??

And do you also remember…(sniffle)…do you also remember the…uhmmmm…

Hold on! My eyes are getting misty.

Aha! Where was I?

Do you also remember how you and Mom sold my beloved bicycle? Oh wait...I guess it was Mama that singlehandedly sold it. Hehehehe! Sorwiiii 🤭

I have a lot of things to say to you. You know…about how I developed an interest in writing…about my first crush (not like I'd have actually told you. Hehehe)…about how I shriek and cower under my blanket when I catch the sight of lightning…about how mom scolds me for my bad eating habits.

You know…you'd know all these things only if you were here — but you're not. So now I have to fill you in on most of the things you've missed. And this isn't even cutting it.

I miss you so much, Daddy.

And if this interests you, all my crushes are Yoruba guys (I'm foreseeing an inter-tribal marriage. Hehehehe)

My battery is running low but I'm glad that I got to write this before…(sniffle)…before…

I'm just glad that I got to write this.

I have a lot of things to tell you. Even about my friends and school too and church as well. Huuuuh…a whole looooottt, Papi.

I guess this is where I say "hasta luego" (I'm a polyglot, Papa).

Spanish, Korean, Chinese, and soon to know Italian.

Bye for now, Papa.

I'll talk real soon and you better get this letter or else I'll just assume you took a masterclass for selfishness (just kidding)

But I'm serious, read the letter.

Happy Father's Day again, Papa.

Your daughter,

Brittle Spine

PS. Don't freak out about the name. It's my signature now. Bye Papi. Muuuah!

Happy Father's Day!

So many feelings I want to unbottle

So many hurts I want to let go off

A couple of friends I still want to reach out to

Memories I don't want to forget

Experiences I don't ever want to relive

Fantasies I want to experience

Sounds I want to drown in

Places I want to visit

People I want to meet

I have so many…so many…so many things I want to do.

“What's stopping you?” You might ask

A version of me that still feels like it's impossible.

A version of me that feels like I'm hoping for too much

A version of me that isn't all enthusiastic about the prospect of those things happening.

But I still hear a voice asking me; “what if you can do it?”

“What if you're made for more?”

“What if it gets more exciting and amazing than you ever thought?”

We'll never know, would we?

How about we try?

what if we fail?

what if everyone laughs at us?

“At least they know us now, don't they?”

But then…what if it —

Shuuuutup! Just shut up! We're doing it. Whether it fails or not, we're doing it. So brace yourself up for a long ride.

Let's do it!

You know…perfect jawline, perfect teeth, glossy skin, a pointed nose and…and…I guess that's all.

No! Wait. Long lashes too and maybe brown eyes and pink lips and…maybe… uhmm…maybe I could look a little beautiful.

But all I saw staring back at me was a girl with imperfect jawline, crooked teeth, pimples all over, short lashes and several other flaws.

I just wish…just wish I could be PRETTY.

I'm not asking to be like the models on TV.

I'm just saying that I don't want see the girl with so much flaws in the mirror staring back at me. I just want to see a PRETTY girl.

Am I asking for too much?

“Learn to love yourself; no one is going to love you as much as you love yourself” is what I've heard a lot of people say yet I still don't understand it.

I love myself but I just don't like the girl who stares back at me when I look at the mirror.

It's complicated. You wouldn't understand ‘cause you're PRETTY.

I thought deeply about what to write today. Usually, it's not so.

On a day I find it difficult to write,I eventually figure it out. But then…but then…today feels…hmmmmm…different.

(Sighs)

Like all my ideas are gone and my brain have been unalived. Or maybe I've reached my limits. Or maybe it's…ugh!

But hold on a sec! I'm writing this, aren't I?

Maybe I'm just in a COMA, not actually DEAD.

I hope I leave this void soon, ‘cause I don't like it here.

I want to think. I want to feel. I want to flow with any obstruction.

I want to be felt. I want to…huh…I can't think anymore.

I'm…I'm…(silence)

“You're over him. You're over him.”

“It was just a feeling — just a feeling”

I said those words repeatedly as I climbed the stairs.

“You're over him. You're over that heartbreaker.”

“You won't think about him no more. You won't…you won't…”

I stopped midway as I thought about how he kept confessing his feelings for me countless times.

I started hyperventilating again at the thought of him. Why did he have so much effect on me?

I hated to be entangled with thoughts of a guy.

This wasn't just any guy —he was my CRUSH!

He still is.

He was just an embodiment of pure handsomeness. You know…pink lips, tall, nice haircut, fair-complexioned and…

“No…no…no. Not again, Tamilore!”, I hit my head against the wall slowly as I just realized what I was doing.

Fine guys are just wicked. Don't get me wrong.

They know they're so fine and they know they can have any girl they want and they go ahead and charm all of them.

The naive. The witty ones. The beautiful, the most beautiful.

“Huh! Tamiloreeee! You're cooked”, I said as I sat down the staircase.

But why? Just why did he have so much effect on me? I had admired other guys, even to a point of maybe liking them; but none had given me sleepless nights the way Femi did.

“Lord please…”, I looked up, “please Lord, kill my feelings for him, I'm dying here. This is just too much. Not like I'm going to end up marrying him; we aren't even dating…yet.”

I knew Femi liked me and he had asked me to be his girlfriend but I just couldn't bring myself to accept his proposal. Why? Because I might just be another pawn in his domain.

I had had Femi in my mind for two years now and those feelings weren't waning even when I told myself that he was just some ugly, unintelligent, humorless dude.

I know…I know, but lying to myself about his attributes just sort of helped me, a little.

Well, I hope this feeling dies soon so that I can sleep in peace.

“Ugh! Tamilore! You'll be fine…soon.”

I got up from the staircase while I searched for the keys to my apartment.

I felt my phone vibrate.

I looked at the screen to check who was calling me.

FEMI… with hearty emojis.

My face lit up with a broad smile.

I stared at my phone as my emotions ran wild.

You know what? I don't care anymore! If I was going to be used, then let me be used.

If this was the way it was going to be, I might as well plunge myself deeper into my woes.

“Hi babe”, his deep bass voice echoed as I picked the call.

“Hi, my love!” I said giddily.

It was going to be a long conversation and I had just one thought roaming through my mind — fine guys are wicked!

And. That. Is. On. Period!

PS.

Y'all pray for me please. I can't handle heartbreak 😭 💔 🥹

“You cheated again!”, I yelled at him

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I just can't help it.”

“You know…”, he continued, “…I'm the only one that deserves to be called your king and you repeatedly kept calling a chess piece ‘your’ king. It's not fair babe.”

He explained.

I glared at him.

Was he being serious right now? It was just a simple game of chess and he kept failing and missing the point of it.

“Ugh! You're insufferable!”, I exclaimed.

“Babe naw, please. I'm sorry. I won't cheat again, I promise.”

I was not mad at him. Just tired of how he kept making the game uninteresting by cheating.

“It's the same thing you said after you cheated three times. Three good times!”

“I'm not playing again”, I said while retreating towards the room.

I don't play with cheaters!

What's "gone”?

My inspiration!

My motivation!

The passionate drive I have whenever I write…

The feelings I pour out when I write…

The tears that drop on the paper…

The mind to feel…

The strength to pick up my pen and write…

My memories.

Are they all gone?

Feels so faint in my mind.

So…faint.

…faint

Now I just have to think of a song to trigger my emotions so I can write.

🥱 🥱

I searched frantically and signalled for my my mama’s presence but only the howls of the wind greeted me.

I walked towards the edge of the nest and looked down.

It felt so scary and big. Had the world always been this big?

And most importantly, where did mama go to?

Was she in danger? Had something held her back? Was she trying to gather enough food for us?

I had several thoughts running through my mind.

Nightfall came and mama wasn't here yet. Something was wrong but the sad thing was, I didn't know what it could be.

I had a hard time sleeping without Mama because she had always held me while I slept.

I stretched my wings as I saw the first ray of sunlight.

With resolve and determination in my mind, I decided to look for mama.

Just one problem, I had never been out of the nest, I never used my wings, never thought of ever leaving the nest.

And for the first time ever, I looked up and locked in focus on other birds in the sky.

I had to fly.

If I was going to find my mama, I was going to leave the nest.

I closed my eyes, stretched my wings out in the sunlight and…

My body kissed the ground with a heavy thud. Flying was harder than I had thought.

I lifted my body off the ground but didn't even make it make it to the point where my nest laid.

I tried again.

Another fail.

I tried again. Utter failure.

I tried multiple times but no success.

I was about giving up when I heard a voice call out:

Hey, Birdie.

Seems like someone is having a hard time flying.

My instincts kicked in as I fought to resist the hands that found it ways around my wings.

There! There! Hold on. You seem like one who hasn't left its nest.

The hand was gentle as the voice as well.

Flying is not about stretching your wings alone. You have to know that your mind is also a propeller for your flight. If you think giving up the second you fail is a choice, then you'd never fly.

Now how about we try again?

I didn't resist. I stretched my wings and mind as well.

I gained more height but fell again.

Now that's progress.

I tried again and I was able to stay up even though I was shaky.

Open your mind and let your heart be your guide. Gain control!

I listened and did exactly and the voice said.

I flapped harder and trusted I could do it. I opened my mind and gave no room for fear.

I might fall, true. But I will fly again — and higher.

I kept the words in my heart as I gained control.

I was flying! I was actually flying.

I had done it!

I looked down at the one who had helped me.

Go out there and find whatever you're looking for. And if you fall, fly higher.

I knew where I was going and I knew how to get there — I'd fly (very high).