Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky were shooting stars?
No. No we cannot. If we could, I already know what my wish would be. I’d wish I got the chance to meet a strong beautiful lady.
A friend died of cancer recently. I was shaken. Shaken because this was someone I had gotten fond of. Shaken because the last time we skyped she was perfectly fine. The cancer was in remission. Shaken because if I were to talk about someone who personified the word faith, I’d talk about her. She was a lion at heart. Her smile, you could not but be infected by the contagiousness of it. Deep and heart warming. Her mannerisms, playful, jovial, ever up for a chat. She believed in love, the old school romantic Hollywood, boy meets girl, girl gets swept off her feet kind of love. She was strong. By God she was strong. She lived as though there was no deadly disease in her. I would once in a while think of my unhappiness and problems in this prison but when I remember her, and her situation, I realize my prison was a freedom compared to hers. Yet she confessed God till her dying breath.

“I need a miracle from God”

That was the last thing she tweeted. I will not join the band wagon in saying death was her miracle. No. She wanted to live life here on earth for a little longer. That was the miracle she wanted. She didn’t get it. And it hurts. It hurts because irrespective of the numerous Skype calls I never got to meet her in person. I never got to take her to lunch as promised. I still owe you that lunch D, I still owe you that lunch.

I take solace in one thing. She didn’t get her miracle. But she got freedom. Cancer wanted to keep tormenting her. Well guess what cancer? You can’t do it anymore. You did your worst. And she’s still standing. Standing somewhere you can not reach.
And for that, I’m happy.

Rest in peace

Durodoluwa.

Rest in peace.

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