This is a story I rarely tell.
Most humans equate pain with tears, with sorrow. But it is not always like that. The thing that brings you unlimited joy can inflict the greatest pain on you. Being in love with a lady can make you excited, happy, but the distance between you can shower unlimited pain on you. Sorrow and joy go hand in hand. Like the two sides of a coin. Love is the yin to the yang of hatred. But this essay is not meant for a psychology class. It is a story of the pain (ache, sometimes unbearable) that I have been enduring for a better part of my existence.
I wrote a story about the accident I had in secondary school. I hit my head and injured my knees. I bled a little but the injuries still throb. The knees always seeking my attention, never for once letting go. As I pen this piece, I am in pain. Not enough to cripple me, but enough to reduce my movement. To confine me to the comfort of a chair.
How does it feel? It feels like one hundred tiny carpenters found a way into my knees and they are busy hammering away. Trying to inflict as much pain as possible. And the more I try to be brave, the more determined they are. I am trying to be brave but it’s not only the knees. The muscles in my body joined the revolution too. They all want to take over my body. The pain is the opposition. The pain wants to tear me apart, to render me useless.
Life may be an illusion but pain makes it real. Pain is like the nightmare you can never wake up from no matter how hard you try. It’s like Alcatraz, only no one can release you or break you out. Pain roots us to the ground, but this one is threatening to pull me under. It wants to bury me deep in the soil. There is light at the end of the tunnel, but this tunnel has caved in. No exit.
The constant unending pain always reminds me of my fragility. It always reminds me that I am human. I have an expiry date, we all do, but I never forget. I am only human and like all men, I will die too. Even if you don’t miss me when I am gone, never forget to pray for me. Pray for me and ask for forgiveness on my behalf. The pain is bearable now, it has even become a part of me. But where would I be when it overcomes me?
Comments and criticisms are welcome.
Sophocles Writes 