Zibah Writes

  How does it feel to be loved? For someone to understand your unspoken words by looking into your eyes. To memorise your expressions, every curve of your skin. To completely occupy someone’s mind and heart. Perhaps it is how Juliet felt with Romeo or how Rose felt when Jack sacrificed his life to save hers. Or perhaps it is how I would feel if anyone ever made the effort to know me-how I love when it rains, how my music taste chooses me...how my best drink is chilled water, how I squint when I am absent minded, why I hate public transport, the little dance I do while eating food I love, how I laugh at every little thing, how much I love hugs, how my eyes light up when I see someone I like, my little giggles when I’m shy, the birthmark on my eyebrows that I do not like, the color of my eyes, how much I love colouring my hair-. Or if anyone would gaze at me like the sun shines out of my eyes, touch me like I’m a god and you’re on your knees worshiping, kiss me like my mouth is a cha...

 He looked at me and that’s how I knew....we would be together forever. He was exactly my type; tall, light skinned and muscular. He looked like that first burst of sunlight after long weeks of heavy rain, lifting the gloom and brightening everything it touches. He walked towards me and I smiled. Jason. He took me to a 5 star Italian restaurant on our first date. He held doors open for me, pulled out chairs and lowered me into them with forehead kisses, brought me flowers, and fed me. He held my hand, gazed into my eyes and called me  Ma Chérie . Jason, the perfect gentleman. On the day of love, he took me to the beach and my heart sang when I saw the decorations. He even remembered my favourite color and had gotten a black cake inscribed with “Happy Valentine’s day Sarah”. As he lay on the sand gazing at the stars, I stared at him. This beautiful man who could easily pass for a model . He was everything I could never have had in college, back then when I had been overweight a...

I don't quite fit in anywhere. When I'm home, it's like I'm an outsider looking in. Watching my mum and sister bond over pots of steaming jollof rice, shared interests, trips to the market,  styling and fashion...I smile, it is bittersweet. Like you're watching a home movie where the main characters are so in tune with each other and live happily ever after, and at the same time knowing you'll never get your happily ever after, because you're just too different. I tell myself I'm unique, but that's just a nice way of saying I conspicuously stand out...a popular loner. I've never belonged. Everyone says I have a nice and bubbly personality, but the only bubble is the one I'm stuck in..while every other person sails freely around me. People tell me to love myself first, but really what's left to love? Slowly, I've been dissected and I can't even find parts of myself anymore. Where is the young girl who always smiled? Oh yes, I remem...