Monologue: Cycles

The very first time I saw was you were in a classroom on a wet Friday afternoon. You stood out like a little bulb lighting the entire room and everything stood still at that moment. You smiled sheepishly like the naive girl I thought you were with him, aloof of the fast and dirty life that had consumed everyone on campus. And I felt it-- at that moment that you were something different. My curiosity was stirred.

The third time we meet was at a party and you were freaking drunk. Not a space I thought I would ever find you given that the second time we met was in a church and you were sitting close enough for me to feel the tiny hair on your skin and watch your breast cadence gently. That night you were not so subtle. With my hands on your waist, and you're hips swinging from side to side, I arrived at the conclusion that you were the one (again).

That night you told me your names and I said it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard but I lied. They weren't as beautiful as your eyes and the secrets they held. You were hiding something Tola. A pain. A sin. Something. I knew I had to save you; I knew you needed to get out of that space but I didn't know how.

The fourth time we met was in a park. I had become your new distraction and you needed it. For the hell you've been through in the name of love you needed it. And I wondered how stupid one can fall in love for the wrong reasons and be so unwilling to yield to the love they need. That was your Tola. That was everybody I knew--broken and scared, waiting to be fixed. I was your fixer Tola.

The fifth time was the last. I had to do some damage control. I failed to mention that I wasn't so perfect either. Fixers need fixing sometimes. For all the light and joy I brought into your life I thought I needed some myself. But you never understood the concept of being selfless--nobody does. And so I had leave. I left in search of another broken person to fix. I've met a ton since I left Tola, many of which are irredeemable.

Some days I just want to quit Tola. It's tiring fixing people only to get damaged by another, by the same thing and the same persons. People fraternize with danger so much they forget the merit of peace.

I hope you found yourself as you claimed. Our last conversation wasn't as detailed as I would have liked but I hope you're fine at least. Many don't actually know what they are looking for, I hope you do Tola; I hope you found it. You sounded happy, as happy as you were when you were broken.

I have to go now. There is someone that needs fixing. In fact, I found her the other day in a classroom on a wet Friday. She stood out like a tiny light bulb lightening up an entire room. She is the one I tell you. She is the one.

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