I feel guilty when I scribble. I treat you as I do my Lord and saviour. I go to Christ only in times of need. Neglecting Him when I feel all is well. I treat you the same way now.
Pen & Paper Confessions (3am Thoughts)
Here I am.
Feeling lost again, so maybe I’ll write. My heart weighing me down. Rooting me to this ocean of darkness.
Stationary, and at the same time, sinking. Not knowing what has driven me into this state. Or have I been in the darkness too long I’ve forgotten what the light feels like?
Have I become so accustomed to this pitiful state?
Efforts towards lifting my mood are futile.
So I write.
Or maybe it’s all in my mind? Has it always been in my mind? Did I create my own despair? Did I draw these grey clouds? Do I bring about the very rain that dampens my spirit?
Do I willingly let the devil in? Or have I had such a hard time finding happiness, that I have begun to question the source of these morbid thoughts? Question my own sanity?
I feel guilty when I scribble. I treat you as I do my Lord and saviour. I go to Christ only in times of need. Neglecting Him when I feel all is well. I treat you the same way now. You two have been my greatest companions throughout the years. Oh pen and paper, do not neglect me. I am beginning to doubt the healing I get from you.
I know, it’s the same way Christs looks at me and knows my faith falters. But please be Christ-like, have faith in me even when I have none in you.
Bleed for me as Christ also did.
And I promise to do my best to come to you when things are good, not only when it’s all gone insane.
Now I hide myself in the shadow of the day. Hidden away from the world. My mind travels back to the days of bliss, leaving me baffled. Days I can’t forget…
Moments created without a hint of regret. We created our own world. Surrounded by music. Notes, melodies, voices, words. In the midst of all this blissful chaos we met. Dust settled, revealing her to me. Music persuaded our feet.
Words, these restless words, residing on the tip of my tongue, eager to get out into the world. To be spoken in a voice I did not recognise as my own. Responses came in a voice I had been longing to hear. Not knowing what it sounded like, just knowing I wanted listen.
The feeling was awkward, it was different, but right in every way. As usual wearing my heart on my sleeve. No place for a watch, so when she asked for the time I said “I can only hear my heart beat, and it beats for you.”
Puzzled by my honesty, I no doubt in my mind about her feelings for me. Freckles on her face, a map you can use to trace my path from the moments I was lost to when I found her, found this place. Our moonlight was a song, under which we shared a kiss. Lost in the moment of that kiss. Life was paused, a forever moment. My feelings for her outweighed the lust.
Spending our nights talking, falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning. Waking up to the smell of her hair, kisses on my cheek, the softness of her skin, and the melody that was her voice.
But like every good thing on this earth, it had to end. So I live on my memories to fuel what is left of me. Holding on to the false hope of rekindling what we had. However, I don’t hold a long enough matchstick to reach her candle. All this time I had been searching, asking God why I didn’t find you earlier. Thinking about all the time we could have spent together if I did.
But all I got was 3 days…
Gbemiro Adebimpe is an aspiring architect and a full time dreamer.
30 Days 30 Voices series is an opportunity for young Nigerians to share their stories and experiences with other young Nigerians, within our borders and beyond, to inspire and motivate them.
Op-ed pieces and contributions are the opinions of the writers only and do not represent the opinions of Y!/YNaija.