Letters

These cheesy love things…. Read on   

                          
                                    Simon Opio
                                  P.O Box 23407
                                      5th/11/2004

Dear Sandra
I have met her. My sister, I have met the girl I am going to marry. My cynicism, withstanding, I know she’s the one. I remember how you used to say that when I finally do fall for someone, I would stop snarking about love. Well the day has finally come when you can gloat and say, I told you so (please do not say it). That twin intuition (these days they call it twintuition apparently) that you have about me is spot on. I wouldn’t say this if I did not mean it. But here is the simple truth, I have met her and my God, is she beautiful. Like seriously beautiful. But her eyes…

Forgive my rudeness. I think you can tell by the way I am writing this that I am beyond elated. So let me ask what I should have started with at the beginning, how are you? How is the cold weather treating you? Your last letter, where you whined and whined as if you are not the strong Acholi woman that your mother raised you to be, was dated two weeks ago.

By the way, I received that letter just yesterday.
I know these letters take a ‘lifetime’ to get to you. I am sorry that I have not yet opened an email address, but really, don’t you find that writing on paper is a little more -what’s the word I’m looking for- authentic, romantic even?
Granted it takes a longer time for the letters to reach you but I prefer putting pen to paper and essentially pouring out my feelings. Wait, what am I saying? I am a man, I am not supposed to show weakness of any kind. And you know, feelings are a weakness in men. I can picture you scoffing at that little quip. Those white people are going to spoil you my sister, you know we don’t scoff, we roll our eyes. Well you women roll your eyes and jeer. The men, well they just shake their heads and I also accept that we do jeer, sometimes, just sometimes….

So anyway I hope you are fine and back to my soliloquy. I just met her yesterday, when I went to pick these letters from the post office. She has the most amazing eyes I have ever seen on a woman. And her voice, like a thousand angels just lent her their voices so she could speak to lowly mortal like myself (maybe I am over-exaggerating, blame it on all those Shakespeare and Lord Byron poems that you forced down my throat)
I don’t know her name, yet. Like the bumbling idiot that I am, I forgot to ask, the basic things. I just looked across a room full of old stuffy post office boxes, there she was and it was like I was sucked into her eyes. Did I mention she has beautiful eyes?

I remember thinking to myself, ‘Oh my God, what the hell just happened to me?’
It was almost like I was hit with Zeus’ lightning bolt, or is it Odin? I’m not quite sure. Blame it on the lightning bolt that has temporarily fried my senses.
Remember when Father used to lecture me about marriage? Well one time I asked him how I would know who my wife will be.
He looked at me and said, ‘son, when you see her, you will know’
And at the time I thought that the hopeless romanticism that all you women, in our family, seem to thrive on had somehow rubbed off on our very mentally stable father. I remember looking at him like he was crazy. Like all those love songs that your mother and sisters love to play had got into his head. He just laughed that hearty laugh of his and said to the puzzled expression on my face, ‘you’ll see son, you’ll see.’

But then it happened, I saw her yesterday, I just knew, I just knew that she would be my wife. I saw the proverbial light, so to speak. It’s like something just clicked into place. It is very unbelievable. Mental even. I know, you’re probably thinking I need to go see Doctor Adupa at Butabika, or have a lobotomy or something of the sort. But hey, are we not all just a little bit mental?
I know what I’m writing to you reads like those romantic novels that you love to read and also seem to like to torture me with. (Seriously, in all the bookstores that are literally on every corner in Liverpool, the best book you could find me was a Danielle Steel book, not John Grisham or Sidney Sheldon?) But my sister this is my reality right now.
So anyway, I will keep you posted on what will happen next in the Simon and ______ love story.

This is just the first chapter. As that dude who translates movies always says at the start of the movies, Katadinka butandisi, maaso kulutimbe.
The kids are fine, I am sure they will tell you all about their problems at school.
P.S I am sure it is not love at first sight. I still do not believe that that exists. Its – what’s the best word here? – Knowledge at first sight? Admiration at first sight? Perhaps it is lightning at first sight. You are the Literature student not I.
P.S.S please do not laugh at me
P.S.S.S More of that chocolate please                            

Your twin Brother
                                               Simon