Student Bridge: A LOOK INTO MY DIARY

15 Jun, 2014 - 06:06 0 Views

The Sunday Mail

Lower 6, Lomagundi College
I LOOK at the diary I am holding in my hand.
I think of all the memories it holds. The pictures, the notes, the laughter, the happiness, the pain.
I wonder if you knew that someday this was going to happen to us. You and I, brought together by a certain understanding of one another’s characters.

Sad and Strange, right? I guess then the substance of life would be much easier to figure out, if everything that happened could be understood there and then.

And maybe, hopefully, it would be better to understand, easier to bear.
I realise now that I needed you, wanted you around more than you probably did me. More than you probably ever would. Which is why I believe wherever you are, you are okay. I wish I had been the one to die. I do not know what is in the next life but surely it should be better than the present.

You would have survived my death. Without the kind of fear of being unable to barely survive like I am going through now. You’d make the best of your life without me, which is something I fail to do now.

Half the time I blame myself. I blame myself because I feel I wasn’t there for you the only time you ever truly needed me. I knew how much our friendship meant to you.

Being the only child in your family I know you considered me your sister.
That afternoon you called me and asked me to come to your house, I did not realise how much you needed me. I told you I was at a family luncheon, but I guess I should have left that and come to you. I just had not realised how lonely and dead you felt then.

I was shocked when I was told later on that afternoon that you had been admitted into the ICU of the LaterHope Hospital. I was crushed when, that night, my mom said we were not coming to visit you because you had passed on a few minutes earlier.

That blood you lost from the vein you slit on your wrist was your last cry. From the letter you left on your bedside table you said you wished sometimes you could see the brighter side of life. I am sorry I was not there to answer your last cry, to wipe away the tears and to make you believe things really would get better.

I can’t bring you back Vee, but I ask for your forgiveness. I will not let myself be taken in by the grief. For the both of us I’ll live and try to save others like you.

Students, send your articles, pictures, poetry, art … to Charles Mushinga at [email protected] or [email protected] or follow Charles Mushinga on Facebook or @charlesmushinga on Twitter. You can also post articles to The Sunday Mail Bridge, PO Box 396, Harare or call 0772936678.

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