Because of Ten Beautiful Angels.

Let us pretend I am not drafting this at work.
Let us also pretend I am not typing this when I have a very serious Cost Accounting paper that I am not 100% ready for in a few hours.

LOL.

Anyway many years ago I was a teenager.
I was going through the most horrible time ever. My father was battling cancer and I was battling being a teenager.

So let me take you down memory lane.

Remember seventeen?

All that major identity crisis you were going through trying to figure out who you were and who you weren't?
Remember trying to get good grades and how you would float through Chemistry classes because you failed to see the relationship between the Haber Process and your aspirations of being this kick ass poet/dancer/Dj? Remember wishing logarithms would just DIE( refer to my point on how you failed to see how it would make you a better artist)?
Remember that boy you spent days and  cold boarding school nights dreaming about( though you never admitted this fact to you friends)?
Remember always struggling to know the latest songs and movies just so you had something dope to tell your friends about during lunch or that boring Business Studies class?
Remember moodswings and communal cramps( the latter applies if you were holed up in a girls' boarding school)?
Remember borrowing skirts so that you looked your best everytime you had a school event( read funkie) somewhere to go to?
Remember the nightmares your beautiful African locks gave you that time in the middle of the term and you had massive growth and it felt like you needed a rake made of steel to be able to comb your hair?
Remember skin breakouts?
Remember the punishments you and your deskmates did because of being caught noisemaking every other day?

I remember that.

But I also remember praying a lot. I remember sneaking away to go and cry my eyes out at the school chapel when I got this sinking feeling in my stomach and I was worried and I did not know who to talk to. I remember faking smiles. I remember the first day of a new term and how everyone was all excited after a great holiday but I had to fake smiles because I left someone in North Wing room 3 and I was scared to bits I wouldn't see them again.
I remember faking smiles because I didn't know what else to do.
I remember nightmares; the end that I dreaded.
I remember sweet dreams; things going back the way they were. 
I remember going home and lacking sleep on my first night because the house felt so damn empty.
I remember stress eating.A lot.
I remember the darkest poem I ever wrote.
I definitely remember these words from Iris...

”... and I don't want the world to see me
cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything is made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am...”

Sad music.
I remember secretly staring deppresion in the eye.
I remember resentment because people around me were hiding the truth and struggling to convince myself they were trying to protect me.

But in addition to all that, I remember laughing a lot.
I remember coming back after a moment of crying and laughing like an idiot. Like I was stoned. Like a stoned idiot.
I remember those crazy parties we had at midnight, which by the standards of parties outside the confines of your little cubie are rather lame but by high school cubicle standards were the shiznit.
I remember doing some stupid dares.
Really stupid ones.
Dares that still make me laugh when I think of them.
I remember poker tournaments.
I remember not winning.
Ever. 
I remember staying up all night talking about random things and losing poker games.
I remember 'our mail'( again only those who went to a single gender boarding school can relate to this phenomenon of getting a letter only for it to be read communally by your homies).
I remember having a dance named in my honour.
I remember doing this dance much to the bewilderment of normal people.
I remember how stupid this dance was.
I remember discovering a part of me I loved.
I remember people loving me for this part of myself I loved.
I remember loving these people that loved this part of me that I loved.

I remember my first real bffs.

I remember how though at seventeen I felt like I was going to break because of the burdens I was carrying, I had people who gave me something to look forward to every morning after a nightmare.

See a few years ago, I was a teenager. I was going through the most horrible time ever but God sent me ten beautiful angels to get me through those uncertain days.

I will forever be grateful.
Always.

PS.
This piece was inspired by the first bottle of yellow nail polish I ever bought and May 22nd, a day I somehow can't forget because it is the birthday of one of these Angels.
Happy Birthday.
Hope you still love yellow.

♥♥♥♥♥