Remember the messages you folks put in a bottle for me, complete with scented candle shavings and satin ribbons, to remind me of the child in me and the endless possibilities ? Yea, the same bottle that I had to break in my sink minutes before I left uni to manage weight. Guess it’s time to reveal that while I’ve demonstrated some remarkable will and restraint in saving those messages ( clap clap); the score is now – one down.
It was a cold January night. Bon Jovi was playing in the background, I was perched on the edge of my bed, by an electric heater that made too much noise and gave less warmth. There I was - head in my hands, feet in my suitcase, wondering if it was the end of the world. To read or not to read... It was less than a year that I had them with me, and I was already in need !
It seems quite comical now, but for a split second I wished I had not broken the bottle in uni. Breaking it on the day would have been so much more dramatic, almost epic. But well, all I had to do then was open my suitcase's 'secret' zip and pick a scroll. There was this tiny voice in my head that kind of mocked me ‘ what if the message in the bottle was errrr...bland and cold, even worse ... sarcastic ?’ The latter I dint have to bother about as thankfully I dint write any message to myself. Thank you moderator/s ! Anyways, good point it made - that cheeky voice. But I would not know unless I gave it a try.
At first I was hoping for one of girl’s messages, well assuming girls write better (no offense boys, but I would have been devastated if I had three words like – ‘OK Good bye’! – Kidding, I am sure even that would be perfect in some situation! ) So, I closed my eyes, and ran my hands through the scrolls, taking all the time in the world, hoping a suitable one would somehow push itself through.
I pulled the pink ribbon off, took a deep breath and thought to myself ‘this better be good’! My first instinct was to go straight to the bottom of the scroll and see who had signed it. But did I mention before – I am a master of self-restraint (M.Rs.). So, I read on slowly and nervously..... I must have a shed a tear or two, okay five, well maybe seven and a half.
It quite amazed me how you thought of the music I would have been listening to, and boy you got it right, it almost made me laugh! Well, you hoped for a more cosy picture, while reality was a bit distorted then, but still close...in some ways. I can’t begin to tell you how comforting those words were, (well I can tell you actually - better than hot chocolate and cinnamon cookies). It was such a worthwhile effort. All those drafts, all that wondering ‘what the hell am I doing !’ - trust me it saved my day, made me feel warm despite the noisy useless electric heater. Made me feel I must have done something right for you to write all that. By the time I had read it for the third time, (sub-consciously) my pedantic self was beginning to surface, and so in order to save the way I felt, I decided it was time to put the scroll back, and tuck it safely in my suitcase.
Thank you, and you know who you are! I’ve been meaning to do this for long, but better late than never.
The score is still one down – five more to go. I’ll let you guys know when it changes.
