The Mirror and I

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The mirror and I
Looking one another in the eye
Have been asking each other why,
We tear up and cry?
After we kissed our lover goodbye?

I ask the mirror why
Mirror answers back with another why

Why does his taste lingers in my mouth?
His scent fresh in my house?
My toothbrush isn’t cleansing enough
His stain stubborn and tough
Why doesn’t the shower rinse me of him?
I backspace but can never delete him?
Why is it mirror?
That he defies the rules of nature?
Mirror echoes back
Never to reply, but to ask
To pin me down with the same question
As if I don’t already have full plate of confusion
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John Tekle must die

I am not easily impressed. However, anyone or anything for that matter, that possesses a strange, weird, unique or perhaps eccentric qualities intrigue and hook me without trying so much. I often fall in love with the ugly ducklings and befriend the outcasts, cheer the underdogs and read all the unpopular books in the shelves covered with dust. Strange occurrences, adventures and dramas unfolding in my life are almost an everyday happening. Perhaps because I welcome them with open hands. So getting the most strangest text from a strange woman one morning was not an epic incident to marvel about in my life.

The text goes like this:

“Fiammetta, you don’t know me but I do. This is my Facebook profile and I have sent you a request but please don’t add me yet. I want to tell you something before we become friends.”

All my curious cells were rushing and scrambling over like the rush on a Black Friday Sale when all the crazy shoppers abandon all the rules and senses of civility and bring forth their boorish human nature from the days of the jungles.  I was in a middle of a deadline but I couldn’t contain myself anymore and succumbed to the temptation of  a prospect of juicy gossip. Her profile picture was not unfamiliar to me,  I remembered hearing a story about her from someone and something told me it was the moment of truth and that she was about to drop a bomb and leave. I like a woman of such courage.

“I have heard about you. I hope all is well with you. Anything I can help with?” I typed back real quick; hoping, wishing and praying she would be free to talk and would sate my thirst for breaking news.  Sure enough, I can see her typing back.

“Can I call you now? May I have your number?” She texted back. I noticed her politeness, another check alongside her name.

I released a sigh of relief. Decided to take my coffee break as I typed down my number for her and headed to the door. But even the curious me had to count to three before I picked up the phone, I didn’t want to come off as desperate loony who welcomes talking to strangers.

She is a bundle of surprises, that woman, and a bit too friendly for my taste. Nevertheless, it seems that my weirdness has actually found a match. Another check mark.

She greeted me as if I were her best friend she just talked last night before she went to bed. Her nonchalance approach towards breaking the ice threw me off guard. I blinked several times before I could find my voice again. After filling me in about her day and the guy she is dating these days, which I thought was something you would talk about in an about two-months acquaintance or over, she jumped to the main subject of her call and the reason behind that weird and secretive message she sent me on my FB account.

I smiled.

I tried to frown for a second but I smiled. I kept on smiling till the guy behind the counter at the Starbucks thinks I am hitting on him. But he also would  be smiling if he were on the phone with this girl.

After narrating a helluva story that belittles one of the Danielle Steel’s books, no offense here, but I don’t read Danielle Steel. Well, in all fairness, I tried to read her books at one time as it seemed that every girl from Asmara has to read her book or she is un-dateble  or not considered a girl. I tried really hard to finish one of her books and proceeded to a second one but it felt like I was rereading the first book. It was too predictable and smells like a fiction. I mean I love books that make me forget their fictional nature and at the same time remind me of the reality in my nature. I almost gave up my passion for books because of this woman, not to mention my hope of dating. Dating wasn’t worth the hassle of reading Danielle Steel. Fiammetta, having a thin-layered patience,  gave up.

Getting back to the nitty-gritty,  I think I attract only the weirdos. No offense dear friends and acquaintances but it also has been said that ‘it takes one to know one’ and by deductive reasoning, you all are weirdos for befriending the epitome of weirdness-yours truly me; but I treasure your friendships with all the weirdness in me. After filling me  in with all the stories she heard from him about his previous relationships and the recent ones,  this newest weirdo in my life wants to meet all the women who have dated this guy and come up with a yellow page directory on how to avoid being one of his preys if I may choose the correct word.

Wait a minute. Did I hear her right? Did she propose to open ‘The Exes Club’? I choked on my Caramel Ribbon. I could feel all those crazy cells rushing back to their places, now that the Black Friday Sale is over they are getting ready for the Cyber Monday Sale.

She was giggling. I wiped my nose and mouth with a napkin as I tried to hold my drink with my left hand and sit on the stool in front of me.  She was still giggling. Maybe her ultimate dark goal is to kill me and erase everyone else who has dated this guy. They say love makes you do all the crazy things, like drinking a poison that is supposed to make you go into a deep sleep till your lover gallops over from the nearest city, or kill yourself with your sword because your lover is supposedly dead from a poison that sent her to a dreamland and conveniently the priest who orchestrated this whole drama was stuck in a traffic jam and forgot to text you or leave you a note that says, ‘Romeo, Juliet isn’t dead. She is actually sleeping. I will fill you in when we meet later on. So for now just wait by her side till she wakes up.”  This stupid love makes you jump into a conclusion and you end up doing all these things that are conceptually crazy.

I cleared my throat, to clear my head from the train of thoughts it was following and to stop her from her silly giggles. She apologized but I could tell she wasn’t really sorry. I smiled, this girl reminds me of someone from a very long time. I see my old self in her; not my future self but my past self……maybe she saw her future self in me.

“I have contacted two other girls, one from his previous relationship and one from his recent…..” She trailed in her sentence, I think she was contemplating her next words or questioning her unplanned and impulsive idea. “He used to tell me about you. Of course, he would omit some things and say you are a close friend.” Suddenly the cheerful girl was gone and she sounded a woman with deep scars.

It was my time to giggle now. Not because she was hurting but because I was very much close to becoming one of his preys. I giggled in thankfulness mingled with relief.  This caged bird has learned to soar and fly high.

“I was never his girl and I will never be his. I dislike men without any essence and sincerity.” I said between sips of my frappuccino. I have to finish my drink real quick and jump back to work. I had forgotten all about my work and stayed out longer than advisable.

To be continued……