Will You Make It? - G
“I woke up one day, just like any other day, not knowing what awaits me today. I can barely keep my eyes open. I wake up and brush my teeth. My head aches. I don’t remember what happened last night. Was I up too late? I don’t know. I try to think about it while I am brushing. The bell rings. I wonder who that is. I opened the door, and there was no one there. The phone rings. I remember now that I was supposed to be at the book launch meeting. I get dressed and leave.
The place that I live in is a very homely neighborhood. People rush to get somewhere, I catch the bus and try to find a seat. Pull out the notes that I am supposed to be reading out to the audience. Audience? I wonder who’s going to be at the book launch. And how do I know it’s a book launch? Anyway, I am reading my notes. The handwriting isn’t mine; I don’t remember writing this. I still read through it. And reach my destination.
My head still hurts. I see the reception of this gigantic hotel. I ask for directions to the book launch. “There’s a hall to your right,” the receptionist tells me. I rush as it’s already 12. I enter, and there are many people, too many unfamiliar faces. Someone calls my name. A guy on the stage - G? People start clapping, all smiling. I get on stage, right about speaking about something I am unaware of. Words begin to fall out. I am looking straight, and I see myself in the crowd. Everyone else vanishes. How can I be there when I am here right on the stage? I wonder. I had a blackout.
Next day.
I woke up with a headache. And, it’s all the same.”
What if I tell you I have been living the same day, every day?
Absurd right? How can a person live the same day every day for so long?
My life is pretty simple. My name is Gina. I am a publisher. I live alone, and I am 26. I like to live alone. I like my space. I like my life. Plain and simple. I have been living here for as long as I can remember. I moved here because - wow, I don’t quite remember.
“You have quite an issue with remembering things, Gina,” Lisa said.
Lisa & I have known each other since we were in high school. We are both BFFs. She is a psychologist to me. But for people, she’s an engineer. She has always loved numbers. The one who helped me through school with subjects like Math's & Science. The one who did my science projects while I wrote research papers about art & history. I’ve always had a knack for writing. That explains why I am into publishing, and she’s into engineering. But for me, Lisa is my friend who always stood by me through everything. Not only does she listen to me, but she also guides me through the downs of life and drinks wine through all the ups. That explains the psychologist part. She’s very mature. Always knows everything about everything. That’s probably not just being mature but also wise. I like her. She’s the only known face in a room full of people.
“I don’t know, maybe I am just tired,” I say.
“You should change things up, maybe..?” Lisa said.
“Why?”
“It’s been 2 years, G. I think it’s time.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“You have to. How long do you think this can go on?”
“Forever?”
“No, G. I really think it’s time. You have to let go.”
I can see her walk away. The only person who knows me inside out, who stood by me all this while, is walking away.
It starts to rain.
2 years ago.
“Hi, everyone, I am Gina.”
“Hi guys, welcome y’all, I am Gina”
“Ughhh - I don’t know how to do this.”
“You can do this, G. This isn’t your first time,” Lisa said.
“Yeah, but people make me crazy,” I said.
I pack everything I need. I put my notes back in, brushed my hair, and put on lip gloss. And, lock my house.
Walking down the lane, I see people rushing to get somewhere.
I caught the bus. Pull out my notes that I am supposed to read to an audience. I reach the reception area, and the receptionist tells me the hall is on my right. When I entered the room, there were a lot of unknown faces. I stood up on the stage, and right when I was about to speak, I saw myself in the crowd. And now, it’s just me and no one else.
That’s me watching myself.
I can see someone walk right past me with a mic. He talks. And tells the audience-
“I am sorry, Gina couldn’t be here; she passed away in her sleep.”
Grief is nothing, I think to myself, for the person who exists no more on the face of the earth. The ocean with a beginning or an end, with waves or currents, means nothing to the person who is gone. But it’s a constant battle for the person who still lives. You try to hold on to them as if you are trying really hard not to drown. But the person who is gone knows nothing about it anymore. They’ve drowned. And, now, you’re just trying to make it without them.
Did I make it? No.
The question is - Will You Make It?
