My eyes are sweating, my body too, I refuse to admit what is really happening to me. A great part of me wanes, save that I still breathe, I feel like my heart has gone awol. My skin has roughened up, over an attack by goose pimples, a million shivers run through my spines, I am nervous, I am perturbed, the truth is that I’m mourning.

This previous night I was waiting, patiently for cupid to shoot me. A night of love, St. Valentine’s day celebration. I had no love, I lost many, I’d found none, but I still had hope, there could be a miracle before midnight.

But what’s love without tragedy? The world coupled up, while I waited for cupid, I took a peep on my twitter timeline, as usual, to know what the trend was that moment. My eyes grazed a tweet, an exclamation, a suggestion of an imminent tragedy. Then I saw another tweet with a name, a name I knew so much, a name we all know. I put the two together, ran a search and my results got me wishing I didn’t.

Rumors of death, questions, exclamations, cry-outs; ” could this be true? Oh No!”. My thoughts were, ‘this better be a rumor’, this better be a rumor. Right then I posted a tweet saying; “Stars have bounced back from ski accidents, let this be one”. I got mentions, tweeps asking what they were missing, but I replied not, I refused to fuel that rumor.

Woke this morning 4am, and it hit me, a feeling of uneasiness. A sad and disturbed heart, the rumor of the previous night has gone viral, every media outlet was saying the same thing, none had real details, the details they had were still sketchy. How could they have real details, obviously she’s not dead, she’s still alive, obviously this is the hand work of her enemies.

A deep voice kept whispering to me, telling me that I’m in denial, that I knew what was but refused to admit. My twitter timeline and BBM updates was full of admission, only a few were still in denial like me, only a few of us still whispered to our hearts; “Goldie can’t be dead, no she can’t be”.

Its awkward, I feel saddened. My emotions have plunged to an abyss of ponder, doubt, denial, gross disappointment. Last time I felt this way was late last year when I heard the news of my grandmother’s demise. I cried a bit, but I smiled for she had lived long enough to be a ‘great grandmother’. She was 95.

But this, I can’t take this, I refute it. I’m disappointed with life, I feel like I have been duped. My insides are bitter like one who has had a consumption of vinegar. My eyes blood red, hot like molten magma. I’m shaking, vibrating like one who stands face to face with the grim reaper. Why such a vile news on lover’s day eve? Or is it a rumor? Why would one peddle such evil news about another? But were this to be true, I would but ask life; ‘Life, why so evil?’.

My eyes still sweat, I wipe the fluids as they roll down my cheeks just before a brace with my bare chest. I’m perplexed by my own self. I know not why I feel this way, because I have no direct connections with her except her music. I do not get emotional over rumors, yet here I am, sober, depressed. Her purported death is not yet confirmed. Thus, there is that chance Goldie is alive, and that this is nothing but a rumor. I hope. I hope. I just hope. For now I remain in denial.

http://www.naijastories.com/2013/02/rip-goldie-harvey-love-and-tragedy/

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