I hurt easily. Because I’ve known dark times more than I do light. They be asking why. Why sad endings and happy beginnings. I tell them I don’t know. It’s who I am. I hide my laughter in my sadness. They say it’s normal. It’s my sad tales that give them muse. I promised to stop, Ma. I promised to be happy, Ma. This is me trying. I recently found some light. It was the tinniest. At first, I was excited. Then the next moment I wasn’t. I kept pushing it away. ‘Cause Ma, I don’t know how to deal with such things. It’s not who I am.
Happy beginnings and sad endings. Chuckles. I don’t know which matters. If you ask me, what I know about tragedies, I’ll tell you nothing. But it’s like I live it every single day. I don’t know. Really glad you’re not here, Ma. Really glad you’re not here to see me through my worst. But we all have our demons, when mine visits me, I’m always sad. You know what I love the most, Ma? Writing. It’s just beautiful. It would be more beautiful with a beautiful woman to hold my hands, when I ain’t steady.
I remember Paps, telling us that marriage is more than just a beautiful woman. I remember those late night talks. It was always at the dinner table, when we gathered around the lamp. You and Paps, told us of how you met. I still remember. It’s hard to balance work and relationship, Ma. I found a woman. She’s simple. She’s beautiful. I think she can make me happy. She’s the key to my happiness, Ma. You should meet her sometimes. But Ma, sometimes I feel fire on my face. When she’s off mood, she takes it out on me. I feel the taste of gasoline in my breaths. Paps used to say, that these women act humble and modest when you date them. They speak less when you’re courting them. And whence you’ve put a ring on them, they change. They talk too much. They give you headache. I hate it, but I agree with Paps, Ma.
And pride is not the option of shame, Ma. But it’s source. Humility is the antidote. I’ve learnt to stay in my lane. To be in control. To accept when things are falling apart, and let it go. That way I’ve seen myself mastering the game. And love is brightest in the dark, perhaps that’s why It took a while for me to see the light. Ma, I have a kid now. It’s sad you didn’t meet your grandchild. I named her after you. She is my delight. The reason I never give up hope.
Ma, say hi to Paps sometimes. I know he hates when I talk like this. He’s always wanted me to sulk and play cool. Tell him, I often try. But to you Ma, you taught me, there’s nothing wrong when my tears flow on my cheeks.
As written by Phill Ibsen
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