quarto - 4

I miss this room.

It used to be were I worked, slept, wept, laughed, and lived. It was my home, refuge, and workplace. It kept me company ‘til the wee hours of the morning trying to finish a report; It looked after me while I slept and it simply gave me peace when I wanted be alone and stare at its four walls. But somehow in the past we had a falling a part.

Suddenly, I couldn’t bear to be in it for more than 5 minutes. I was restless and had sleepless nights in it. I was cold, sore and angry. My temper marked the walls red, I was seeing red. Then I caught myself and said, “Hey, it wasn’t fair.” If couldn’t bear to be in it, it was also trying to spew me out. So we finally had to part.

So, the time came when I would only visit it every now and then, when I needed to do something in it, or if I wanted to be alone because the veranda had other occupants. Or I would be forced into its humid walls for a meeting, when there would be no where else to do it. But many times I refuse to stay in it or even go up to look at it.

But now, I’m beginning to miss it again. Miss the times when I was glad I woke up to the same four walls that saw me sleep the night before. Miss the times when I shared it with orphans, widows, singletons and those who needed healing like me. Miss the times it comforted me and hid my tears away from the probing eyes of interlopers as streaks of pain and anger gushed forth down my cheeks.

But then again, why would I go on missing it when it has kept its arms wide open to accept me back again and again and again to unceasingly bear witness to my continuing perseverance to struggle more amidst the worst conditions that threatens to come.

And when the time comes it will no longer see me back, others will come and eventually will stay.

Welcome back!