This one time, I’m not writing to ask for money (although if you could spare some 50k, I definitely wouldn’t mind). Wherever on the surface of the earth that you are, I’m writing to let you know that I forgive you.
You and I know there’s a lot to forgive.
FEBRUARY 14, 2006, You bought Mama that cute little Rio she can’t drive anymore because it reminds her too much of you. As the sky turned grey and the sun sank into the clouds, you stood in the garage and swore that as long as breath swirled in your lungs, you would spend your strength loving our mama.
I should have known, should have noticed that the sun doesn’t sleep at 5 O’clock and the birds weren’t singing that evening. I should’ve known it was the beginning of the end.
AUGUST 2009, You and Mama had an epic fight. I remember it all with the clarity of an iPhone camera. Jared clinging to your shirttails like his life depended on it, Mama shrieking and wailing and calling you names, Me standing in the corridor, watching you.
The next day, I sat by your bed while you packed your most precious things. You threw in your passport, your certificates, your favourite shirts and that sapphire wristwatch you bought the last time we vacationed in London. I asked when you were coming back and you said ‘Soon’. It’s been six years Father. I’m still waiting.
I had heard of flings and mistresses and ex-flames popping up like those annoying “Buy 2 get 1 free” ads on Blogspot blogs while you and Mama were together but it never bothered me until I heard that you’d settled down and you’d found a former friend of Mama’s and you had married her.
That day on TBN I heard a teleevangelist say that if I gave 10 dollars and prayed really hard, God would do whatever I wanted. I gave 10 dollars that day and prayed you and Mama would fall rabidly in love with one another. Turns out God doesn’t give miracles in exchange for money.
JULY 2012 We were returning to your house after intensive partying and you told me,
“See, I loved your mother and then I hated her. Now I don’t hate her, I just don’t care anymore.”
If you said you hated her, I would’ve been glad at least, that meant you felt something, even if that something was hate. The day you told me you didn’t care anymore was the day I started hating you. It was my birthday remember?
Since then, we’ve hardly spoken for longer than two minutes in person and over the phone. I’m looking at my diary right now, it’s been three years and six months I’ve spent hating you.
I am not afraid to admit it now. Everyday of those years I spent having you was sheer torture.
J. J. Heller was right, ‘ If I hide my pain way, I’ll never hurt but I’ll never heal.’ All the time I dreamt I killed you, I was the one who was dying.
In a few months, I’ll be leaving “teenage” to become “young adult”. I’ve decided that I will be Captain of my soul. For that to happen, I must take control. Whoever I hate controls me so today, I’m taking the driver’s seat from you.
From now on, I’m not going to let you or anyone else control my life and determine my joy.
Today Father, I forgive you.
I forgive you for breaking Mama’s heart. I forgive you for ruining Christmas and making me hate happy family soap operas. I forgive you for hitting me all those time when all you wanted to do was hit Mama.
If I take the hate away from my heart, I must replace it with something else lest demons set up camp in the void.
Today, I replace the hatred with love.
I love you Father.
I wish I could say something like ” I love you for always being there” but that would be too dishonest. There’s no point denying how broken we are. There’s no use pretending anymore because we both know there’s no earthly reason for me to love you. There is a heavenly one though.
Father, I love you because God loved me first.
Your son who hates Math the way you love it.
P.S: I’ve found a reason! I love you for sending me that 50k I mentioned earlier (because you’re going to send it right? Good! ‘Cos I’m thanking you in advance).
Adeyinka does not like maths, amala and people who do not share his posts. You can follow him on Twitter (inkaseth) or read his less depressing articles on his blog. Oh, he’s also a big fan of Lord Josh