My Dear, darling Matilda

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My Dear, darling Matilda


My dear, dear beautiful Matilda. I love you. I see you and all the things you do.
You left, And I know why, you were sparing yourself all the pain. The pain, the pain, the pain, That you screamed at us about. I saw it. I hold nothing against you.
You live in your little room under the blanket and speak to no one. You smile under the covers at your little blue screen and kick your feet. You feed your fish, That’s all you do.
I thought you ran away to be free.
You told your friend about the little poppies that grow on the side of the road, You pick them and put them in your hair. “They are wildflowers”, he had told you. “They are good for nothing”, he had said. You smiled. You smiled and put them in your ebony hair.
When you ran away complaining about the stupid little men who smile at you and ask for your hand, I thought you were going away for good but… You are holding the hand of a stupid little man, wearing your teal skirt that they had stained. “You hate teal”, I had said and you smiled with those red lips curving up but not reaching your eyes. You smiled and readjusted you skirt.
There was a story you told me. About a girl who scratched your bike and pushed it to the ground, you were seven then. Do you remember? I bet you remember. You hadn’t let me hold your hand. You said you weren’t sad, just angry. Are you still angry?
You said you want to marry a musician. I smiled. “He must be kind,” I had said. I had smiled but you didn’t. You were glaring at the new moon of the spring. I had smiled still.
When you ran away and didn’t cut your wrists, I had been proud. I had cried. It gave me strength to not slash mine either.
Darling, did you cry?
Darling, I did.
You told me about the dreams they stole from you. You told how they knocked you out of the ring and didn’t bat an eye. Have you always been this passive my darling poppy? You are a raging queen. That’s how I’ve known you. It’s strange to see a glimpse of cowardice. I’ll call it strange and not tragic because well, our lives are their own little coups, Even the hummingbirds know that.
You told me of the home you can’t step into anymore. Your aunt died and you stopped visiting the house you made home. There was nothing to see there. There was no one. Not even you.
Not even you, Darling. Not even you.
I thought you wanted to run away to be free but, but you’re still here. You never truly left. You are waiting for them to see you. To see you.
A forever wasted just for a gaze.
Matilda, darling, what did you do? I thought you said you were running away.
I told you, you don’t have to go home. Home or anywhere, anyway. You can stay here. I do. We can, I know we can.
Matilda, can you still see me?
You dyed your hair red and poured yourself a glass of Red, the wuji on your wrist isn’t working, is it? You are the only person I am bitter over. You’ll be the only person I’ll forever be bitter over.
I think. I think.
I think.
What is all this getting me? Nothing. Nothing except a few errant tears.
I know there’s a place for you. You are the Architect. The Contractor. The Builder. The Mason. The Painter. The Electrician. The Mover. You are all of that and more. So much more.
I am glad whenever I can share your laugher. You laugh so loud. You make the birds fly, my Darling Matilda.
My darling, darling Matilda.
You are here and I see you. Even in the autumn when the leaves brown and fall and you try to find shelter beneath them. I see you. I always did. The brown of your eyes mix with those leaves but I can always tell you apart. You are something they cannot be.
My dear, darling Matilda, you are slipping through my fingers and I don’t know what to do.
“I didn’t know that it would hurt so much to realise that you are ordinary”, you said weeping. I patted your shoulder gingerly.
That’s all I could do.
He told you that you were good and you sobbed. That sob was all I could hear for the rest of the week. You never believed him. You don’t.
Do we ever truly believe that we are good?
You ran away and I wanted to follow you. You ran away to the silicone city; to the town of the mountains; the land where the dam gushes. You ran away to where the sun is high, the breeze is cool and the skies are blue. You ran away to the land where the trees sing.
And I… I wanted to follow you.
I wanted to follow you but, but, but. This isn’t about me. I should stop.
I should, I should, I should.
You told me you left him behind- that boy with the ball on his- you left him behind and I think you did me, too. I don’t think you will see me the same again. Not after everything.
Did I disappoint you? I swear I am trying not to.
I am trying not to.
I tried to run away like you did. I tried to run away like the boy with the ball on his feet but I didn’t get very far. I missed home. I missed it too much. And I missed you.
I know you don’t want me to.
I argued with my mother about what she wanted. I asked. I asked. I asked. She turned it around and asked me what I wanted, I told her that it didn’t matter what I wanted. She just looked at me. Her eyes were sad and a graceful frown on her face. She was always graceful even when she frowned.
I am not like her. I cannot be. She says that it is a good thing. But other people tell her that she is wrong. Is she?
Is she though?
She shouldn’t be. She couldn’t be wrong about anything at all!
You cropped your hair short and pretended to be a boy. You wore a blue flannel and your Da felt something lonesome inside him. You were going somewhere he couldn’t follow. He was sad he couldn’t follow. You know he wanted to. He tries not to hold it against you but oh, he does,
He does.
You couldn’t tell your Dad because you were sparing him the misery. You couldn’t tell your Mum because you were sparing her the tears. But you should’ve tried. You should’ve, you should’ve.
Why didn’t you?
My dear, darling Matilda, why didn’t you?
They might not have disappointed you. You could’ve tried. You could’ve, you could’ve but it shouldn’t have been you? Why did it have to be you?
You curse the skies. You curse the magic in your bones. You curse the scars on your knees and your chipped tooth.
I get it. I get why you ran away now. I get it. But I am going to hold it against you, I just have to.


Samina Tahreem is currently pursuing English Master’s in Amity University, Kolkata. She is a reader and a writer.

She can be contacted at

Name: Samina Tahreem
Address: N0015, Atarwala More, Mughaltoli, Murshidabad, West Bengal,
Pincode: 742160
India
Phone number: 7430050017
Email address: samina0707@gmail.com

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