By Gerta Kapllani
Ironic, isn’t it? Five years ago you were running to live and five months ago you were just living to run, which turned into the only comforting prayer in every single breath, the best habit to fall back on when everybody is gone.
Today 500,000 miles away from home, you are begging on your knees to your worst self, “Please enough.”
Funny, isn’t it? How much we want it back when is all dead and gone. Recalling and missing the days when the old child of five playing on the door with nanny waiting for mom to come from work, while collecting “gura-dele,” playing with Jina the best dog friend on the entire universe. Remember how you used to paint her as a dinosaur, don’t you? And when everyone was asking why, you simply replied: “She crushes everything, because her father is a cold man.”
Some things will never change, Shorline.
Here you find yourself again waiting for her. Five AM in the morning, talking to her all night long, after five hours of arguing she still thinks you are fine and maybe you just need some sleep. She acts like she doesn’t understand, you act careless but deep down in your soul you know her arms are the only place you will ever call home.
You know she is more broken than you and God knows it would take her five other lives to make her mind up to change her story. Though in your chaos you still want to save her (wish you could), but who is saving you from you, little wild child?
There are still five hours left until the sun comes up and you still need five more lines to finish writing this chapter. Get some sleep tonight. Don’t you worry your pretty shining mind. It is a mad, mad world here and everyone needs five more to go…until it will be fine.
Trust me, out there is a wild selfish countdown of five all over the way.
Someone needs five more doses of blood on the hospital to survive, others five more of morphine to get some peace…
Five more days to be free, five more hours of agony.
Five more and the divorce will be over.
Five new rules to start this New Year in peace and this fake show to be over.
Five minutes of silence until the next breakdown.
Five more days until is over.
Five more steps to the right decision.
Come on, five more push-ups until those five pounds are gone.
Five more nights until the fight with your demons will be won.
Five more prayers until the last breath.
Five more plates to wash tonight.
Nose closed, count to five, deep breath until you drink it, all of it…like that horrible soup in kindergarten.
Fifth time going round and around in the middle of nowhere trying to keep fake promises alive.
If you hadn’t asked for five more drinks that February night, maybe the car wouldn’t have crushed and you would still be here and I would not be missing you forever.
Fifth time of being prisoner of your own choices in this only and one life you are given.
Fifth ride on this roller coaster with no one to trust.
Fifth time of acting like you are being fooled by the fool who thinks is fooling you.
Fifth glass of champagne like that fifth of July…an incomplete lullaby. Tell me, how much courage does it take to leave even when you care?
Five more cigarettes until it’s done.
Five more smiles to fake.
Five, four, three, two, one…Saycheez to the portrait family picture like there is real happiness.
Five more scores until is game over.
Five more knives in my back. Thank you, I’m getting stronger.
Fifty more years of denial, of keeping up with an abusing marriage because the world doesn’t have to know.
Five more houses on fire tonight, so many memories, so many dreams are burning alive.
Five more, five more until it’s colorful again.
These last five biscuits are all you have that you can share with your nanny while playing “gura dele” once again.
Five more drops of love, just five drops of love more than you loved yourself…and I swear I would have stayed.
If you had given me five, I would have given back fifty. You know how much I love going to extremes.
Five more drops of patience and we would have saved us.
Five more words of kindness and it would have been different.
But in this rush of “five more” there is still one step backward each and every one of us would like to take back.
It’s hidden in the pocket of the heart or in between Super-Ego-ID, and you will always find the way back to innocent days, the only safe shelter of rainy days.
Look at you, Shorline. Your hair is growing back again, bruises from wrists are gone and now you can finally wear this white dress in peace, and dance again like you are five. Today you have more than biscuits to share, but nanny is not there… Still, hurry up, finish collecting those “gura-dele” crystals—five more minutes until everyone comes.
Head up, five more doses of courage to look yourself in the mirror and repeat:” I love you even when no one else does. It will be alright!”
Gerta Kapllani is a an Cv.S activist, borned in Albania. Extremely passionate about human nature.Fighting for violence against women and children. She is in love with details and feels they are what make the biggest difference in life. She also loves music, travelling, fashion, being classy, and is definitely an animal lover. To Gerta, the safest place in this world are in her mother’s arms, where she finds peace and serenity. She considers herself a harmony of contrasts and believes that a beautiful life is composed of big dreams, good music and expensive tastes!
Editor: Dana Gornall
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