Jennifer Idowu

4 projects Lagos, Nigeria
11th July, 2017 Writers
  • The nature of my memory...

It all started when…oh remember I said I forget, but by some miracle my body recognizes the pains and aches that must have come from somewhere I struggle to remember but self medication in terms of drunkenness, surplus calories and aimless activities have made me forget.


As these ebb away, I remember faintly how everyone I’ve come across has given me a new definition of love but yours stood out. I later realize that your definition has been revised a few times and is not the standard version. In this I forget that what matters is my personal definition as I can only come to understand what I already know.


One more bottle, a cheesecake and a new unnecessary acquaintance away from a memory of you took along a memory of me. Again, I do not realize that this is my story, I’m the actor and you’re just an extra. Therefore, I have jurisdiction over how many scenes you appear in and at what point I will kill you off…


But for this story to end in a manner that leaves you wanting more and hoping the story lasts longer, I have to remember.


I have to remember each piece of the puzzle, each time your love piece didnt match mine and I squint just enough to show that I understand that  version isn’t my standard.


I have to remember, your exit before the curtains were drawn doesn’t make you the villain, he doesn’t die off in the middle of the story. I also can’t blame you for the temporary nature of your role.


I remember now, your scenes only brought the picture together. My anxiety would be top-notch if I had to keep looking for that last piece of the puzzle.