As I wash traces of my tears on the bathroom sink,I know they won't be the last, but at least the new ones will find a fresh face and this one's will be different because they won't be for the world,they would be mine, because I have chosen me.
I enjoy their anticipation as I watch the stretch of their faces,a smile, everytime I tell them a lie that they will come to believe, and I don't mean to say that I have some psychic gift of knowing this,it's just that the story I tell them, was one I had already told myself time and time again till I believed it and as the quote goes if you believe it yourself then you can make the whole world believe in you.
I remember the day,my brother and I were standing at the door, watching my father pack the last of his belongings,my sister too upset was upstairs comforting my mother,the woman who had stripped this man the last of his glory by telling him to leave her house and carry only his clothes for those were the only things he had brought in the whole eleven years of their union, and after looking at us and telling us everything will be fine,she turned to my sister and said,"If you don't have your own things,this men will look down upon you."I knew the opposite for us was left unsaid because our real life example was walking towards us, and my brother who was wiping his tears asked him, why all this time he had lied to us.He touched both our heads and said,"sometimes you don't tell a lie because you want to, but you do it wishing it was the truth."That says much about me.
I am a good lier,I try to remember the details of the lies I tell so that I understand the chronology of my lie, because I have a bible of lies I have told,and a mix up will be the downfall of this web I have build,you ask me why I do these,my father answered that nine years ago.As I build the scene of this lie,I maintain eye contact with the weakest link of my subjects,one I have told some story before,new ones tend to be a little close minded so I make them believe by convincing my other disciples,I call them disciples because they spread the word.
The story I tell them,is about a girl I called R.I paint the picture of her beauty, employing repetition so that her beauty remains vivid and when I begin to penetrate my character into the storyline,I belittle him,"sometimes I wonder what she saw in me."The easiest way to convince people I have learned is not painting yourself too highly it will come out as a brag and even if it's true they won't believe you,humans hate progress.
When I finish my story and the small civility after,friends begin walking out,throwing a comment or two,I put a smile here and a laugh there knowing that for a lie to have impact you don't add anything on top,let your audience tell it back to you.As they leave one by one,I feel the sting of loneliness grow one level after another till I close the door and the bloom of it overpowers me and I burst into tears,as the dread of me becoming good at lying takes me closer to that point where one day,I too will be the audience to my own story and also the pain of not having enough courage to tell anyone the truth but me.
Somehow I manage to get in bed and my tears cease to be a burst,they roll slowly and become emotional and this silence, opens my mind to remind me the true story incase I got swept along, her full name was Remmy.When people describe their first love,they tell a story about about a crush, whom they came to know felt the same or just a neighbor next door ,exetra,,,,but mine was different ,I tend to fall for those girls whom I know will never look twice at me, before you begin to pity my "defects" let me come out clear,I have a face that people tend to forget easily.In my schooldays I used to receive those phrases of,"Bro,I have never seen you in these school."And I know am good looking because one day, me and my friends got enough courage and asked some girl,among us who was the Alejandro,she ranked me first, don't try to rationalize that it was the limited data we gave her atleast let me get away with these.
So growing up falling for the "wrong people" toppoled with the fear of rejection,made me easily attracted to hookups and as I held the Sunday paper like an expert I began reading from the back despite knowing that my purpose laid on the center,this was to convince myself that I wasn't getting addicted to them.Today the hookups looked strange, mostly it used to be young women looking for love,today it was thirty plus,so as I was closing the paper disappointed, running away from that maturity because I was just twenty,I stumbled upon a name in the upper part of the next page,strange,but maybe a late addition,the name too was strange Remmy,I know,but people my age came from an era where names were still drawn from the bible,a good example was me,Hosea or maybe my brother Habbakuk and the rest of my friends filled the old testament,but something about the name attracted me and so I quickly emailed the editor and forgot about it.
If you don't believe in my gift as a lier,then believe this other one of drawing pictures with names,metaphorical ofcous.And I knew Remmy was a beautiful one by just looking at the name.I had remembered her again after waking up to a text of,"Hey am Remmy,,,,hook up."You will never come to understand how the text harassed me in a good way and I knew I had only one opportunity to make a first impression,and like a good millennial I googled but I didn't get what I wanted,maybe if I had that chinese search engine I would be great,but some blogger I had read said, don't think about it,a girl would know.So I tried,"Hey R am H."That ofcous sounded stupid together with a hundred more till I typed,"Oooh great am H,"before finishing my name the text was accidentally sent and I knew I had messed,I just knew it,maybe I had that psychic thing after all,one minute later I was proven wrong."(Laughing emoji's)H for Hazel or ?" And for once I got ashamed of my name and after a second reflection I decided to fit the shoe."Yeah(laughing emoji)H for Hazel but you can call me Haxy.
Haxy and Remmy was a match not made in the newspaper but one straight from the holy throne,the chemistry was instant,this was the first time a girl texted me equally if not more, the way I texted.I told her of my poetry prowess and she asked me to send her some and I did but she returned hers in french,She had to break it down for me.I asked her to check out my pics on facebook,she left a comment which I stupidly responded that I think am falling for her and within the spectrum of the text she answered back,"That makes the two of us."Please don't try that yourself not every girl is Remmy.Despite being on facebook she had not posted her picture yet, so I nagged her to do so and she did eventually,oooh my God she was more than beautiful ,I began to feel scared,go ask those men dating angels,the feeling is mutual.
To earn some bragging rights,I uploaded the photo and reposted it with a caption,"Isn't she beautiful."My comment box was cracking,then accidentally a friend of mine made a joke of Hosea plus Remmy and a love emoji,I raided her inbox and reasoned with her about Hosea and Hazel,Ann was a friend so she got into my cover and deleted the comment, and fortunately she and Remmy had a history back in highschool.Later I had to explain to Remmy that Hosea was a nickname I earned after portraying the prophet in some school drama.
When one day Remmy asked me if we can meet at 'Urban bites festival',I readily agreed,am not the adventurous type so I had to google the outfit and not having them I purchased second hand.Which with enough water and spray you can restore them into the magic of the boutique.That's how Hazel aka the Alejandro made his way into 'Urban bites.' There was these thing about looking good in pictures and a different story, on meet up's ,R was was different, pictures simplified her. I thought of myself the same way because she had snapped a selfy of us.Maybe this thing was that easy after all.We had been a year in texting, so we didn't have much to talk about just the on moment stuff and when the night was over and a promise for more nights ahead,I was sky high, on my happy place.
Days later I call Ann to ask her,what Remmy had said about me,girls talk,you know but she downplayed the scenario.The advantage of being a good lier is that you know when someone's lying,but to avoid hostility ,you don't tell them head on you try to lie yourself into what they are hiding and in these case I told her that Remmy had said things something about their girl group,Ann being my friend,she would not go ahead and ask Remmy first,this is called creating doubt to an established loyalty.Everyone has a deep counciousness of one day been betrayed and I was feeding Ann's counciousness just this and so she broke the loyalty,"She said you were ugly and she showed us that picture of you two to confirm this."I can't remember what I said to Ann but some unexplained pain crept in.
I felt my self esteem drop to the deepest low ,my mind chastising me of aiming that far.There is nothing like yesterday beeing that high in the emotional curve of life and dropping this low,you just don't know where to begin. See I had build my sense of worth in what I thought Remmy felt for me and now when she said otherwise I had nothing to prove she was wrong and looking at the mirror I only saw what she said and that was years.Now tell me how do you get the courage to tell your boys that some chick called you ugly, actually the culture doesn't promote this kind of pity,it's not stereotypical,is a truth we are too embarrassed to admit.Till I realized that beauty was something in the mind and maybe my principle of telling a lie could dig me out of these,"If you believe it yourself then you can make the whole world believe in you."