Letters I never sent IV
Her memory whispers.
Burnt roses, black clothes and silence.
It came like a spit after curse and I refused to believe it. I heard them whisper and I rejected it.
Olorunmaje!
I told everyone to clean their mouths, that it was a lie. I told them it was probably a prank and they were gullible enough to believe. I told them i had seen and touched you, because it was true, I had. That the Mide I knew wouldn’t do such a thing to me. I told them you were yet to write to me, that you always wrote to me, you always told me everything, that if this was a prank then I would have known. I told them I wanted to see for myself this truth they wanted me to know. I told them I wanted to ask you if you had forgotten to write to me.
They told me no. That you had remembered to write to me. They brought you to me and when I saw you, there was no life in your eyes, there was no life in the veins I had memorized on the back of your hands, there was no life beating in your chest. You just laid there cold, covered in white and sleeping peacefully but not breathing.
Mi o ni okun mo!
I asked them why you weren’t moving, they kept saying words I couldn’t understand, maybe i understood but refused to believe it, because believing would only mean it was true. I screamed your name, my eyes cried out your name Mide, but you didn’t move, Mide you couldn’t move or look at me! I started searching for the letter you wrote me with my teary eyes, all I saw was the drugs you took in your soulless hands. Iyà mí then gave me a folded paper. It was nothing but two words! Mide you only said two words to me “Bisi I’m tired”. What was I supposed to do with that? Heaven knows I deserved more than two words! I deserved a long list of reasons why you did what you did because those two words weren’t enough!
Did you think of me? Did you think about your sister ifeoluwa?
Mo le ro pe inu e dun nsin!
I hope you liked the sad hymns, the eulogy, the sad pretentious faces. I hoped you liked the burnt roses, black clothes and silence. I hoped it’s everything you imagined it to be.
Now I sit here alone on an old wooden chair, feeling worlds apart and silently puffing on my tobacco. The last time I wrote to you, you wrote me back telling me how you couldn’t wait to see me again. I don’t know if this is what you were talking about, because I can’t see you.
Now I’m here writing you another letter on the creased book you had gotten me on my thirteenth birthday, hoping you’ll write me back. I’m scribbling out all my frustrations, yet it’s not enough!
I’m filling its pages already brown with age; with hate, bitterness, stained with pasta sauce, our memories, blood and tears. It tells tales of our broken teenage dreams. I hope you can hear how their laughters echoes through the moist air, they’ve moved on but I haven’t. And how your silence suffocates me. Knowing you, you would have probably rolled your eyes and told me I nag too much like your father’s wife.
After all we’ve never been perfect daughters. I’m scribbling wondering how many times they have visited you. I wonder if their eyes are as puffy as mine now. I wonder if they know how lonely you’re feeling right now. Of course what’s gone is gone. Fed to the soil, bones and forgotten.
Your grave just sits here like a forgotten sentinel, like you wanted to be forgotten. Faded surfaces are cloaked in thick layers of dust and weeds push through the cracks of the laid cement. Their leaves curl around the edges of the grave like skeletal fingers wanting to escape.
The name, dates and epitaph on the headstone are fading too, like you’re telling me you weren’t meant to exist in the first place. As if the passing of time slowly erases the memory of you, well it doesn’t Mide! And you don’t know how much I miss you. You don’t know how bad you’ve broken me to crushed pieces. You know what hurts me the most? My expectations!
Now all I want is to hear is your whispers, feel your presence in this cold ground filled with sorrow, resting bones, and fallen dreams. I want to tell you, your happiness meant the world to me. I want to tell you I caught your favorite butterfly, and I wrote your name on the beach sand and took a picture of it, I can only show you if you wake up.
I want to tell you that I still listen to the beautiful playlist you made for me, I want to tell you I found the hair clip you lost when we were five. I want to tell you my heart aches and the only way it can be fixed is if you come home.
But I know you aren’t here, you’re far under my feet and souring somewhere in the sky. I only hope you feel free from all the weight I couldn’t lift off your shoulders. I only hope you think of me and ifeoluwa. I only hope you pray for me to survive your absence and fight through the longing sitting in my chest, because my heart grows fonder and you aren’t here to tell me you understand how I feel.
I want to tell you I got my heart broken last week, and I know you would laugh at me because a girl like me can never be loved. I don’t deserve to be loved; but you would still say “at least I did” And you did.
Oshe oremi…
And I did too. Now you live in my memories and your memories whisper. You live in my beating heart and I think about you all the time. You’re everywhere in the air, you’re everywhere close to home.
Just be happy this time. Ejorr!
Yours faithfully,
Muah 💋
I really don’t know why I wrote this. It’s just something I had to write down immediately it came to mind. I’ve mostly understood the grief of loosing someone alive, I was little when I lost four people I never knew where so special to me, and I can only hope both situations are in a better place. Happy and fulfilled.
This is really beautiful. Every word is heavy with emotions. I can relate in a way but they didn't die.
wow, i'm pretty sure i felt every emotion that was represented in this letter.... as always, beautifully written!