Sorry for staring, but I can’t sleep. You see, it’s not like you mean to, but honestly, sometimes I feel like you boomerang all my thoughts straight back to me. All my questions and inconclusive thoughts.
I’m not sending them off to you in the hopes of an answer, but rather to clear my head. Can’t you hold them for a while? Can you move around the boxes in the attic and find some space for them?
And if the attic is filled up to the brim with childhood memorabilia and forgotten furniture, amuse me why don’t you? Make a deal with the lightbulb and take all my nasty thoughts and turn them into a flickering movie I can watch untill I fall asleep. Turn my thoughts that have overstayed their visit in my mind into shadow figures that fly on your surface like trapeez artists. Instead of just lingering over me.
If you can’t do any of that dear ceiling, and you decide to be a passive piece in my midnight monologue, atleast make yourself transparent. Turn yourself into glass, so I can stare at the stars and the night sky and put my fears into beautiful perspective.
Remember that one sweater? You know, the one with the technicolor stripes? It was made out of the most marvelous different shades of colorful hand-knitted wool and it fit perfectly. It was warm and comfortable and I would wear it almost every day. That sweater reminds me of you. Warm, comfortable, colorful and most importantly, mine. As I grew up and as I grew tall, however, the sweater didn’t grow with me. It became all the more uncomfortable. Lovely, still, but something that just doesn’t quite fit that well anymore. Quite frankly a bit awkward to wear.
I know we haven’t spoken for a while. I know I sound different, I know I haven’t visited enough. I know all these things. Ek weet, mamma. But to be honest, to be heeltemal eerlik, I don’t know if I’m coming back home right now. I don’t know. Ek weet nie. I am so tired of not knowing anything. I am here and I am there and I am nowhere and I am everywhere at the same time. Sorry if I’m not making any sense. I know that can be frustrating.
I hope you are well though, I miss you. I miss you when my head’s a mess and I can’t find anyone else to explain it to except you. I miss you when I hear strangers who I swear sound exactly like you. Also, I do sincerely love when we bump into each other. You always seem to catch me slightly off guard here, but the world is a beautiful place to discover. Too beautiful to always be homesick. I hope you understand that.
I still have that sweater though.
All my love