Everything I Couldn’t Say
A letter

Bittersweet. It’s not often that life presents you with a moment that can be described as such: having all the pleasures that come with happiness and joy, but still, streaked with something that leaves a not so pleasurable taste. By the time you read this, if I do ever show you, you’ll be long gone, far away from here, at the start of a new journey and believe me when I say if I was any bit happier for you I would turn yellow and bright, indistinguishable from the sun.
Nigeria is a graveyard of dreams, a place that might hold promises when you are young, but one that leaves most, if not all, disappointed in adulthood. So any escape from here is an escape worth celebrating, especially when it is that of a true friend (like no other).
You might wonder what the wisp of bitterness is; well, it is the fact that I will miss your physical presence. Phone calls and video calls go some way in bridging the gap but nothing will ever make up for the feeling of having someone you love sitting in front of you, laughing to one of the millions of random jokes. It is a beautiful sight, one that brings meaning to existing and blurs sadness.
So yes, I will miss the sight of you but I’ll pretend to be tough and unflinching just as always, even though I know you see into me and through me and can call my bluff without hesitation.
I wish I had something to give you, something physical, something you can hold in the palm of your hand, something you can trace with your fingertips or wear on your head or anywhere, something solid, something everlasting. But all I have are these words. Luckily enough words have the ability to transcend time and space; to bridge gaps between civilizations; to fill vacuums; and to eternally crystallize and preserve the most beautiful of human accomplishments, friendship.
So these are my words, that you find on this journey all the joy, happiness and fulfillment we spent days on end dreaming of. And that even if there are dark clouds, you stay steadfast and strong because the sun will always rise; I promise that it always will.
I cannot wait to sit in front of you once again as you tell me how finally, after so long, after so much, Baba God has picked up.
Love you, with all that is me. Segun.
P.S You can listen to this whenever you miss me.
