I am sitting as I type this, in Bean & Bagel in Sunset Crest. I feel a little ‘dark’ since I happen to be the only person of colour sitting at the tables. The help is still not very clever… and still answer questions with a blank dazed look

I am in the approximate location, of the infamous in my memory “Coffee Friday” limes that Keffi and I made every effort to attend every Friday for roughly a year and half.

I am sitting here, like I sat so many times waiting for her to come and meet me so we could smoke, drink coffee and talk shit. We’d order two coffees in one cup, fight over who was paying for everything and burn through a pack of cigare

I am sitting here, and I can’t help myself from scanning the entrances, waiting for her to appear in her red bank uniform, red lipstick, cornrows and adorned with that fantastic smile of hers.

How do you define grief? How do you ever really get past that ‘missing’? I haven’t been able to do it. Not a day in nine years has gone by that I have failed to think of her and miss her. My memories of her, are always of her smile, her smile, her smile. Which is ironic, since she was in such constant pain that to remember her smiling means something to me… I wiped away so many of her tears, but those memories are blurry….

I miss my sister. I miss her. I still haven’t figured out how to get used to her not being here… I still catch myself wanting to call her and tell her stuff.

When I was leaving, I saw preciousc. Ironic huh? Pity about preciousc… but you can’t use the memory of someone’s dead best friend to inveigle your way into their good graces, slash and burn them, and then expect to be held in high esteem. I am not mad… it’s kind of interesting. I have so few reactions to seeing her, and now it’s the second or third time I’ve seen her in the same place. I see her and my heart doesn’t pulse with anger, I don’t see red, I don’t feel sadness, nothing… nothing. She is one of less than a handful of people I have completely excoriated from my emotional space… and I ain’t fucking sorry about it either.

I just think it’s funny I was there, thinking and missing Keffi, and preciousc appeared. Not sure what that means, but I’ll tell you, I don’t miss preciousc at all… and Keffi’s memory still burns flame bright in my heart, and it often pulses with an ache that doesn’t really ever go away..

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The Vault


mermaid, dayo's mama, water priestess, chaNjuzu, writer, web developer, omo yemoja, dos aguas, obsessive reader, sci-fi fan, trini-bajan, combermerian, second life, music, music, music!