I am a diarrhoea survivor. I say this because it's barely 7:00 A.M and 5 times I have counted the blue tiles in the washroom. My tummy cannot take it anymore. My gut tells me it is over, no more visits to the washroom. In my last article, the word 'raw' resurfaced so much in the reviews and my association of diarrhoea to pancakes is an attempt to being raw.
Well, we all know the whole first pancakes always turn out bad notion, but I am here to oppose it. I prefer to call my friends pancakes, they are tender, they make me happy and I see past all the blemishes, you should too. The first friends we ever encounter are the best, rather should be the best.Valary is one of those friends.
We met when we were 5, we share a birth year, we got late to school together, our mothers were friends (They don't keep in touch as much anymore) ,we both cherished the English language and to top it all off we look alike. Familiarity breeds contempt. Sooner than later tables turned. Our coherency became incoherent. What used to bring us together now set us apart.Talk about the nitty gritties.
Who has the sharper pencil,who's uniform is better ironed, who impressed the teacher most and as we hit puberty it graduated to boys.I wasn't surprised ,we had the same taste. Fair skinned, tall and with a hint of talent.
We eventually attended different schools and only connected when home.And then one day we didn't.It felt harder to keep in touch,I got too self indulged,I called it 'change'.I was riding on my high horse, turning from a catterpillar to a butterfly and it was all worth it,or so I thought.
Our friendship went into an ego-induced coma.
We were 17,and just acquaintances.We did miss each other (atleast I did) but too egotistical to take a backseat and do the asslicking . After all, I could always make new ones ( speaking for sanguines) so why not? I did try, and after a while, I ended up making a new friend, her.
What we all (sanguines,melancholics,cholerics and phlegmatics) fail to notice, is the first pancake on the pan, ends up as the last to be eaten, assuming we all wait till the last is done before we eat. No matter how many connections we make ,how many people we meet.We always come back .Back to the nostalgic tenderness and trust that is not actually broken but bent. Back to the first pancake.
Then it hits me that the first pancake isn't bad after all, it hits me that the diarrhoea I had was just a normalcy ,I mean friendships go through hardships all the time,and that it eventually passes.It hits me that I should cherish the first pancake and try to make it last. I tell you this for sure because 4 years later Valary and I are still going strong.
That's how it should be, the first pancake (s) should be the last.We should strive to make them last,control our urge to 'eat them', hold on to them to the end.
Check on your first,current and last pancakes. And avoid the washroom at all costs.