Nobody can really understand why you are obsessed with whatever or whoever it is you are obsessed with. Take my ‘coffee breaks’ for instance; with the coffee one can easily argue its more of an addiction than it is an obsession, but the same cannot apply for the accompanying cupcakes and(or) cookies. Those you’ll have to taste to understand my obsession.
I find it intriguing that in fourteen out of the fifteen nights I’ve been here, you are always seated in a chair on your balcony staring at the night sky. ‘The cute stranger over in the balcony of the next building’ is the not so short name my friends came up with the other day. I know I know, those rascals.
‘Okay guys, theories?’ was probed by one of them over dinner last night and lets just say I finally understood why I am the creative one in the group. Theories ran from she’s just taking a breather, to she is escaping a crazy noisy roommate, to she’s probably spying on someone in the next building. The craziest was the last one, she’s taking in fresh air after a seriously heated ‘sesh‘, with his defense being hii ni Juja manze, labda anamedi. He went as far as to try and elucidate your absence with some ludicrous story of arrest for drug possession, and I definitely did not kick him out immediately.
My theory, nah I couldn’t possibly have one, but…
If asked I’d say you’re in love with the sky, the nothingness that is the night. I think you stare at the endless black till it shuts its thousand eyes and the stars are no longer visible, so that its just you and the moon in your invisible bubble of silence. I think that when night falls you crave silence, real silence, the kind you chase not the kind you run from. I think you fancy the moon because it has taught you to always give light even when incomplete, and on the moonless nights you look up there waiting for a shooting star. To wish upon it for the moon to appear and bring some light to your night.
I watch you smiling at the stars I see them shining even brighter.
That would be my theory.
I didn’t see you yesterday and I might be a tad worried. Concerned really, but I’m not the paranoid type. On a completely unrelated note please write back so I know you’ve not been arrested for what Steve called possession with intent to distribute. He watches a lot of movies. I know the only thing you possess is incredible beauty and you distribute warm smiles to me, but who gives a hoot about my opinions(I high key hope you will).