Fortitude

9-Flipside

Asili ya huba, mwanzowe ni jicho.
(The beginning of love is the eye.)

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Taji

I threw myself face down on the couch when I got back home. A whirlwind of emotions had been clouding my judgement for the past hour or so. I just met a girl shortly after I moved in here. I'd moved away from everything to be all alone, yet here I am, trying to connect with someone new. I went to church for crying out loud, just to see that smile again. Totally uncouth. I know, don't judge me. I knew I shouldn't even be trying. Everyone (other than Tanya) thinks I'm a loser.

Getting attached to people had always been my greatest fear. I got attached to Sasha. She elevated my insecurities.

I was once skinny, like really really freakishly skinny. Not that I was anorexic or didn't like food or something of the sort. My metabolism just didn't know how to process the ability to accumulate fat. I'd always been a foodie for as long as I could remember. I'd also always wanted to be a chef for as long as I could remember. I'd also always been a softie for the same period of time. So when I started noticing my reckless spending sprees and aggravated moods that turned hostile towards everyone around me (again, apart form Tanya), I knew there was a problem.

Flashback all the way to my third year in high school, around the December holidays. This also happened to be the same year when I got suspended. It had been two years since mum passed away and I was getting used to living without her. 12th December was the dreadful day when my mother succumbed and we decided to put our differences aside each year to pay respects to her. This date also got stuck in my head because it also happens to be a public holiday (the day we became a republic).

We: dad, three sisters and I, left the cemetery and went to a restaurant for lunch. The traffic was a nightmare when we left because there's always this thing where the president adresses the nation and hundreds of people gather in the main park in the middle of town to witness it. I was still somehow trying to figure out my way around christianity since balancing God and a social life as a teenager (as if I even had one) was quite something. I sat quietly meditating on my worship playlist to drown away any memories of that day. My foundation had been kinda shaky but I held on to it because my mother made sure I did so, in a firm and gentle way. My dad had never been too big on the whole idea of believing in a supernatural being, but I once spotted him on his knees, praying in his office when mum started getting really sick.

I'd slept on the way, so arriving home in the evening disoriented my focus on getting out of the car. I dragged my feet up the stairs, the sound of my sisters mocking my state sounding like buzzing bees behind me. I got into my room and walked over to the window to shut it to avoid the future fight with malaria. That's when I saw her.

The house next to ours had been under construction and it was finally done. A wide window faced my room. Behind it stood a tall, curvy, caucasian skinned girl. She'd stood there staring out into nothing, looking completely exhausted, stacked up boxes all around her. Her eyes then met mine and I immediately felt like some creepy stalker. As I panicked and reached out for my curtains, she chuckled and waved at me.

Girls never paid any sort of attention to me. I looked like a walking broom stick. But right across me, one of the most beautiful ones ever was smiling at me. My awkwardness couldn't handle it so I drew the curtains.

The next day, as we were having breakfast, the door bell rang. I knew for sure that it was Alex, who was Tanya's boyfriend at that time. He lived a few blocks away and always passed by in the morning since our house was in his jogging route. Showing up all sweaty to see the girl you're in love with. Totally romantic.