It’s Not Fair

‘It’s not fair’, she said. 

She had tears in her eyes but I knew she’d never cry. Not in front of me, or anyone. 

‘The yellow sticky notes all over the walls in my room? That’s not fair. My wall space is gone and I still need to keep sticking reassurances that there’s someone out there who I wouldn’t need to bend my principles for’ 

‘The light-skinned girl that took away Segun from me. That’s not fair. I know that men do not yield to seduction against their will, and I want to be rational and say that it’s good riddance to bad rubbish. But it’s really not fair’ 

‘It’s not fair that when I sing alone in the bathroom no one yells to tell me that my voice is nice. Or at least, someone should yell and tell me to stop singing’

‘It’s not fair that I can leave my smelly shoes in the room because no one would complain about it. It’s just me in this whole house’ 

‘It’s not fair that I feel entitled but I know I’m not. The antithesis in my thinking, is just burdensome and unfair’ 

‘It’s not fair that I’m too smart for too many people.’ 

‘Nothing is fair. Not even the light at the end of the tunnel. I have been in this dark tunnel for so long that the light at the end of the tunnel will blind me when I come to it… If it exists.’

‘Do you understand what I’m talking about?’ 

‘Yes,’ I replied ‘Yes absolutely.’ I took out my phone and stealthily texted my doctor friend: Know any good and affordable psychotherapist around? Urgent!