Runaway Words: Musings From The Bottoms Of Bottles

He said, “The problem is, I don’t understand.”

I was a bit confused, so I asked him what he meant. He said “Every action I take is always taken from a place of good intentions, but more often than not, they’re the wrong thing to do. So I may mean to offer her roses along with her favorite brownies-in-a-mug, but end up serving up a tin cup full of tears and served on a coaster of mymagnificent intentions.”

“And when I do these things, she groans about the weight it puts on her soul, and I moan about how pussilanimus I am for treating her wrong. But unable to see me in pain even when it was of my own construction, she comes to me and tells me it’s okay. And takes me back into her arms with a teary eyed smile. We pick up the pieces of the sticks that are our broken feelings, rub them together and from the little flame we bring forth, once more create the inferno that is our love.”

I told him, “Homeboy, I feel you. So after all this, why do you still fuck up?

He said: “For the life of me, I wish I knew. I’m like a kid standing at the shore, writing my mistakes in the sand and hoping I don’t forget them. And with the high tide comes the wave of good times, erasing what I’ve written with the hopes of never forgetting. And the waves wash it away; leaving me to look and wonder what I said I wouldn’t do. I look so closely, I’m able to make out faint traces, and keep myself in check, but ultimately those traces go faint and I forget. And then I make the same mistake again and then it hits me. That’s the shit I did the first time! So I retrace the faint traces I left in the sand and smile as the tide goes low. I smile and look at what I’ve written. Till the tide is high once more and like a high person, I start the cycle once more.”

I said, “That’s heavy man. Why does she still stay with you then?”

He said, “Because she’s amazing. She sees past my bullshit and when she gets tired, remembers somewhere deep inside, that I love her. She’s amazing enough to still find that flag even in the warzone we sometimes call our love. She stays because she believes in me. And loves me in ways she can’t even explain. Ways that delight and frighten me at the same time, that keep my heart beating with a purpose and have me looking for the quickest ways to get her back beside me when she’s not there beside me. She makes me want to stand on every street corner in Lagos (excluded, are street corners in Festac, Ikorodu, Akute and Abara Estate), to ask fellas that pass me by, if they have it as good as I do.”

She stays with me because she’s patient, and knows that I try. She stays with me because she chooses to see the good times we have, and let them overshadow the bad days. She stays because she’s my eternity, and nothing could try to keep us apart.”

He was quiet for a second… “Or maybe she stays cos no one else would have her… I’m not sure about that one.” He said.

“Idiot.” I laughed out. “So you still know how to make jokes… I thought you’d washed your sense humor down after the second bottle of Jack.”

“Na…” He smiled. “As long as I have her, that sense of humor isn’t going anywhere.”

“You moist motherfucker.” I laughed as I poured him another drink. “If I’d known you’d be like this tonight, I’d have started playing Drake when you walked in.”

He laughed.

“So.” I asked. “If you know how much she loves you, why are you sitting here, reaffirming your loyalty to Lynchburg, Tennessee, when you should be with her?”

He looked up at me, brought out his wallet, and went “Charge it to my current. Add an extra 10% for yourself.”

Five minutes later, he walked out of the bar. Looking like a soldier of old; weary, but picking up his long sword, because the battle had to be fought, and he would do nothing else if he couldn’t fight it. I looked at the will returning to his step as he gathered momentum and crossed the road to go home to the woman he loved, and thought to myself…

Another day, another battle. Did he say 10% or 20%? *chuckle* he won’t notice jare…

-End-

Advertisements

About The Capoeira Panda

Panda makes his home in the world of words and metaphors. In the hopes to be more than just a confused blogger, he currently works as the editor for an ecommerce company that was good enough to hire him, and lives with his flat mates & two imaginary dogs who get along just fine. He enjoys reading good books, writing, relaxing with his friends, & poking fun at his mother over the phone. When he's not doing any of these, he sometimes sits back and wonders why anyone expects to learn anything useful about him by reading this bio. View all posts by The Capoeira Panda

2 responses to “Runaway Words: Musings From The Bottoms Of Bottles

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: