Good Ol’ Days!

Hey guys!

Yay! It’s Fiction Friday! #TGIF

*Plays an oldies track*

friends
Photo Credit: Giphy.com

This post is gonna take you back to the good ol’ days! (I hope) 

So, I slumped into the bus seat in exhaustion. All I could think of was my rumpled bed and my favourite spot in front of the TV. I interchange both places. As the traffic dragged along like a snail race, I took note of the secondary school guys who were playing music and singing along on the other side of the bus. I could immediately tell the social group they belonged to, one I’d call the ‘cool crew’. The guys who would probably be tagged the ‘jocks’ in a high school setting. It quickly took me down memory lane.

Needless to say I was one of the nerdy kids who would probably fall head over heels for the cool crew. They were sorta the bad gang who were daring enough while in school. I was more nose deep in books and did little or no daring adventure. But I couldn’t help admiring these guys who seemed to have some out of this world confidence. They’d seat in a group and I’d dread having to walk pass them. I was that shy!  

That’s not the sweet part of the memory though. The sweet part was having that guy who liked you. You know, that your buddy in science class, the brilliant one with impeccable manners. He’d be by your side even after you made a complete fool of yourself in front of the cool crew. 😊

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Photo Credit: lovethispic.com

Secondary school was an interesting part of my life. Growing with total strangers, making some inseparable friends and playing the immature card way too many times. I remember how senior girls would make up for dinner at the dining hall, which was just a block away! And by make up, I mean white loose powder and cheap, oily lip gloss. Then the body sprays! Gee! You’d think we were trying to bring all the bees together 😂

The guys were also pretty aware puberty had kicked in. They’d starch and iron their light cotton shirts to impress the girls. Clean their shoes hourly as though they took a walk in the Sahara Desert. It was pure, undiluted admiration and attraction!

Though most people tag secondary school love as child’s play, in retrospect I think it was real love. I may be naive, but I don’t think the guys wanted to be baby daddy’s then. They just felt this thing they couldn’t define. They’d make a total fool of themselves in front of the girls- who were pretty impressed by the gimmicks!

Ah! The love letters.

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Photo Credit: imgur.com

I still long for handwritten love notes. Technology has taken that away from me. But I still have some hand written cards that I cherish till date. So yes, I think the secondary school love was beautiful, innocent and pure. Come on, you were not expecting much- receiving a pack of biscuits, juice and sweets were like receiving a box of Louis Vuitton shoes!

Ah yes! Valentines days were the best in school…that’s if you had someone that cared enough to send you stuffs. I think I was pretty lucky in that regard. I still say my final year valentines was the best! I got bottles of wine and an adorable teddy bunny and handwritten cards. I smiled as though I received a medal! Of course, I played the whole ‘he’s my friend’ card to everyone who tried to tease me. But some 7 years down the line I still ‘blush’ at that very fond memory.  I can’t remember being that young and giddy anymore.

Whatever happened to that childlike love?

I think we should love each other as we did when we were young and innocent. Not caring so much about the oversized shirts or the non-fitting hairstyles. Laughing at every not so funny joke. Passing notes between classes because we just wanted to say hi.

Can we go back to a time where love doesn’t make high demands on the other? A time where love is as sweet as unprocessed honey? I wish we could.

I just discovered I was smiling all through as I tapped away on my phone and some passengers are giving me the look. *Chuckles* Gotta stop now.

Thanks for reading!

Lots of love,

M.

 Your Turn

So what are your fond secondary school/ high school stories? Please share in the comment section. Feel free to write tons of paragraphs! I’d love to read em! 😉

Rachel’s Musings: of Friends and Lovers

Stay with me. That was the last thing I said. Stay with me, was the last song that played before the lights went off and the gloom returned. He couldn’t even fight for us. He called me today though- I should probably be happy. I mean, I’m in a good place aren’t I? Then why is my heart beating faster? Why am I sweating when the AC is down sixteen degrees?

He said I was still his love even though things weren’t working out well for us. All I could do was let out a wry smile. I mean, ‘yeah right!’

I haven’t had any success stories when it comes to love. Maybe I make a monster out of them. I don’t know. I think I’ve given up on trying to figure out these things. I don’t know the happy version of the love story. I only know the sad tales with the broken hearts that live happily never after. Now when I’m going into a relationship, I go with the thought of the end in mind. But it’s funny how no matter how prepared I am for the end, my heart still aches differently when it is over. I’m sure if it were possible, Dex would hand me the box of tissues and sad playlists whenever one ended. Because he knows this. His thick fur has absorbed most of my tears. But it’s fine.

I’m thinking of traveling again. Maybe a bit of Indian spiced dishes will give me a different reason for the tears that seamlessly fall down my made up face. Oh yes, I finally learnt the art of making up. I’m still too laid back to do it every day but oh well! I learnt something new. Thanks YouTube!

From the makeup, you probably guessed there’s something special about today. Yeah, it’s my birthday. Every birthday since we became friends, Austin sends shoes. Well the first order he tried got mixed up but soon it became a ritual. I was sure I would get a new pair of shoes every birthday. And a note with the address for our dinner date where I’d wear the shoe to, of course.

I’m a little anxious today though. Considering what happened a couple of months back. I had gotten into a relationship with this morning’s caller. His name? Call him Drake. Not because he is my favourite musician but because his beards are so well carved. I think I like guys in the beard gang. Focus. So yeah I started dating Drake and the awful day came when I had to tell Austin. I think it broke him. He withdrew and stayed for days without chatting with me. Funny though, I and Drake couldn’t work out.

Friendship.

How do you know those guys who should just be friends? I think Drake and I made for good friends with no romantic undertone. And Austin? He has always been my friend! I mean how do you lose a friend by festering feelings that may lead nowhere?

friends and lovers
Photo Credit: quotesgram.com

I don’t have many friends. Maybe because I am not friendly enough. Oh no, that’s not the case. I am friendly and make friends easily. Sustainability. Now that’s the issue. I don’t know how to sustain such friendships. No wonder why I can’t sustain romantic relationships either.

My musings come alive when it’s raining. I want some hot chocolate and waffles. Unfortunately, I can’t have that now. I would opt for some fries but the merchants are not out yet.

The weather is comforting. Well except the mud I have to paddle through. I pray my birthday turns out well. But these days I don’t care so much for birthdays. I’m 29 already. Getting old. I should have a kid by now. Chuckles.

Kids.

They are cute when little and obedient. But soon they become little monsters running around the house. I would know this because I watched my niece grow. So adorable! Yet mischievous.

So back to the friendship thing. My mind finds it hard to understand it. I make friends with the hope that he’s the one. But soon enough I find out he isn’t and I stash them with the remaining trophies on the friendship shelf. More like a new pair of shoes to my already robust collection.

Is it wrong to date friends? Is it right to friend zone potentials? You can only have one ‘the one ‘ right? Sighs. I don’t want to be greedy. I’m known for eating my cake and having it. But I mean, I could just take a tiny bite and keep the rest.

So instead of hot chocolate for the weather, I’m having iced lemonade. At least the cold matches the cold in my heart. And the sour taste, that’s just the taste of all my broken relationships and sour friendships.

I hope Austin sends my birthday gift. Not like I need a new pair, but I just need to know he still values our friendship. It’s okay if he doesn’t. I will be fine. I never told him I broke up with Drake. Just so he wouldn’t ask me out and receive an inevitable no. If only friends will just be friends. Sighs.

It’s still raining. I need to go out. I hate being grounded. Hopefully I should be up in the air next week. India will do me good. I believe. Come away with me.

©Mfon Etuk, 2016.

Rachel’s Musings- Greece

This story isn’t over, was the last thing I said and meant. It rained again today. But this time I was too weary to write. I ponder on a lot of things. And this time the difference between love and hate. I’m a hopeless romantic- you probably knew that already. Even though I constantly conceal that with a tough exterior. But I can’t lie to myself- even if I lie to others.

So yes I took the trip. And I met someone. We connected within a couple of days and just couldn’t get by without talking. He was eccentric- like me- and I liked him. He is an artiste. Sings for a living. To be honest, I don’t see the job security in that as there are a million other artistes around. Well, who am I to judge? I travel for a living. That’s as insecure as a job can get. Not a job, more like my life. But that’s okay.

He was sweet. His smile was full of radiance like the sun rising from the East over soft blue skies. He was spontaneous. He had this cheerful demeanor and his eyes pierced through the soul.Oh and yes he writes songs. He wrote one for me while we were in Greece and I loved it.

We toured the beautiful streets of Greece hands entwined. He made me laugh a lot more than I can remember doing. maybe I just needed a reason to laugh away my pain. He wasn’t into food and would pass on the traditional meals I was crazy about. I should probably write on the confessions of a foodie as I am one myself. 

Greece was a time of refreshing and he definitely made it worth it.

So are we together? You may ask.

No. Sadly.

He is married.

Found his ring in his guitar case. Of course I asked about it and then he stuttered a bit before explaining how he was having issues with his wife and needed to take a break. Sighs.

Marriage.

Isn’t it crazy how two people who couldn’t get their hands off each other while dating turn out to be two strangers who can’t stand being together in the same room?

Love and hate, such a thin line in between! One day you’re professing your deep undying love for her. The next, you shout hate words and stomp away never to look back.

It’s mind boggling! I once had someone declare his affectionate love for me. Called me all the sweet names in the book. But in the blink of an eye it was all over, and it was like nothing ever happened. The love words were gone. The sweet names, gone. It was as though nothing ever existed. Call me disillusioned.

How thin is the line between love and hate that people easily drift in and out of? Where does the passion all go to?

Love for me is a dream. It’s either I sleep on till death or I wake up and it’s gone. But not everyone likes sleep. Some people just have to wake us back to reality. Rather unfortunate, if you ask me. I wish we could love and not hate. But in reality, I believe more in hate than love. It surprises me when people say they are in love. Maybe I’m just being cynical. But it works fine for me.

greece
Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

Greece was great. His name was George. And no he didn’t use the second ticket I had. I’ll probably use it some other time. But for now, I’m all set to go back home.

The weather is beautiful. The birds are chirping away. I waved at him one last time from the window of the cab, heading towards the airport. My heart is still a mess. But I’ll be fine. This story isn’t over yet. Stay with me.

©Mfon Etuk, 2016

Rachel’s Musings-In a Good Place

So I’m starting a new category called the Fiction Fridays and I hope to be posting fiction stories every Friday. This is intended to help me work more on my fictional writing skills as well keep you entertained! This doesn’t interrupt the usual Sunday posts though. Thanks for your support and encouragement as always! ❤  ❤  Fiction fridays

Here is today’s post!

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I’m in a good place. Well, who wouldn’t be while taking in the breath after a fresh rain? I’m sitting in a yoga position, staring out of the window while listening to the birds chirp away. It’s still drizzling outside. I snuggle closer to Dex, my big fluffy bear.

I’m in a good place. This time it has nothing to do with the cozy weather or the weekend that is almost over. I’m in a good place in my heart. I don’t feel it beating as much as it used to when I see him or hear his name. Yesterday he got married. I was there. And I cried. Not because I was particularly happy for him. But because it would have been me. But it wasn’t.

I’m no longer sad.  I know I played my cards wrongly. Well, when I make love a game, I lose. But when I don’t care, I get more than I bargain for.

Puzzles.

I never liked them. Now I wonder if I’m just writing because the weather is beckoning to my artistic side like a groom beckons his bride? Is that why I always wanted to travel?

Traveling.

He sure wanted to make me his bride but that felt like clipping my wings. He didn’t want a wife who would scarcely be around. But I didn’t want to stay in either. I’m an explorer, call me Dora- or better still, Ford. As in Ford Explorer. The next car I intend to get before sojourning in Kenya.

Home doesn’t feel any different. If that’s what I can call this place. The place where it all began. Out on the cottage on a rainy day. He covered my hair with his shirt, while keeping me company as I waited for my mom who forgot to leave the keys out for me. We talked, we laughed, and we loved. Or so I thought.

I’ve never really gotten the concept of love. One minute you’re in love. The next, you hate them. I mean, isn’t there middle grounds somehow? Or is it all lust? Well, in that case, I lusted after his intellect, got teased by his wit and dived into his mind’s depth. It was never about the physicals-don’t get me wrong, he was good looking. But that wasn’t the main attraction.

We connected. Like a phone to a familiar WiFi. Once I had the password, I never had to retype it. We automatically synchronized. Now I sound as though I’m not over him. But I am! Lies I tell myself.

Sigh.

The tea kettle is whistling in the kitchen. I need to go get a napkin before I get burnt-again. Reminds me of that fateful winter night in Roehampton. We were both reading for our examinations. I was cold and needed some tea. I picked the kettle without a napkin and got burnt. Stupid me! He smiled while treating the injury with some items from the first aid box. His medical degree always came in handy as I was accident prone. Call me clumsy. As in one of the smurfs.

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Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

What am I doing? Going round in circles as I always do. Circled round Africa the last year and lost my love in the process. Only saw him on the weekends. Half of which he was working. It’s no surprise he married his colleague. I don’t really care about that. I guess.

7 years down the drain. But I’m good. Flushed the memory. I’m fine.

I wish him a happy life with whatever her name is. I’ll move on. Besides I’ve got two tickets to Greece. One was for him. But it’s okay. There’ll always be another one. This story isn’t over.

©Mfon Etuk, 2016