The scar on my face. I’m sure some of you know how I got it. Some Loser tried stealing my phone through the window behind me, as I was tweeting. (I know, twitter’s gonna be the end of me!) But I held onto it so he failed, but in the end I got a scratch on my face! The Scar!
I got home safely, though a bit late. Thanking God all the way for not having parted with my beloved phone. Yeah, so I’m pretty attached to my phone.. As I brushed my hair away from my face, that’s when I felt it. A liquid. I stared at my fingers. A red liquid. Blood! And the pain hit home. Ouch! The baga had scratched me. Damn his finger nails! And I hadn’t even seen his face! He better not have given me an infection, I kept hoping. OmG what if it leaves a big scar on my face? I dreaded. Oh God it hurts…I thought, as I felt the sting attack my face again.
All memories of all the curses I’d come to know in my two decades came rushing out of my mouth, as I stood outside the door to the house. I took out a piece of tissue paper from my bag and wiped the blood away from my face before ringing the doorbell. And even before the door was fully open, I dashed straight to my room before anybody could see my face, threw my stuff on my bed and rushed to the bathroom mirror, all along praying and hoping that it wasn’t that bad.
Well…all I can say is, I lived. I did feel like going back to the scene, get hold of the loser and beat his ass up, but I didn’t. Imma let karma deal with this one. I got over the scar…but i’m still deciding on wether I should cover it up with a thick layer of make-up or go out there looking like those samurai worriors animations or thugs with a scar on their faces. It usually screams, Bravery! Well, come think of it, I was brave. I mean holding on to the phone was quite a courageous act. Kinda like a samurai worrior holding on to his dear life against this mean evil sorcerer… (Well I said kinda :p ) Not to say the loser missed my eye by an inch. That’s worth thanking God for you know.
All in all I was thinking, maybe I got the scar on my face in exchange for my phone. You can say I’m tryna justify the scar, or you can call it being positive, but it got me thinking that maybe what we used to be told is true. That you lose something to get something. That sometimes bad things happen for good things to happen. Now I’m not saying we should rejoice over our myseries, I’m just saying that we shouldn’t mull over them too much. Doing that wouldn’t change a damn thing, and until a time machine is invented, that wouldn’t take you back in time to avoid the predicament either.
Bad things happen everyday. It’s almost inevitable. How to deal with it is however all up to you. You can worry yourself sick, cry yourself to a wreck, wish on ‘what ifs’, think on what should have been, how you could have prevented it and how you let it happen, OR you could just take it in, get over it and move on. Like I did with my scar. Like you should with that breakup, or that mistake you did sometime back…
Hey, it’s not that hard. Instead of looking at it through all the possible cursable angles, try seeing it in a better perspective. I’m sure you cannot miss one. Try seeing the donut and not the hole in the middle. Because what I’ve come to know is that, Life is what we make it…it always has been.