Subjective Truth: Senegalese Tomes: Distant Lover

I have found a new love in the last few weeks. To be honest, I was both apprehensive and enthusiastic to make her acquaintance but that anxiety departed upon our initial encounter. Her beauty was breathtaking and I was immediately smitten.

Our connection was swift and undeniable. An eerie familiarity with this stranger intrigued me. She seemed to know more about me than I knew of myself and promised to remove the blindfolds which, unbeknownst to me, had rendered my vision askew.

However, she maintained her vulnerability by showing me her imperfections. Her storied and troubled past often ran parallel with my own narrative, and shared a common genesis. Her struggles were my struggles, her pains were mine also, as well her triumphs and delights. I rejoiced in our commonality and celebrated our variances.

Yet and still, I have not forgotten my first love. My distant lover who lies more than four thousand miles East. I cannot forget the manner in which she brought me from a boy to a man, provided for me and protected me. I cannot forget the things she taught me, whether it be the flaws of my miseducation, the frustration of that realization, or the jubilation in my search for truth.

To my distant lover: You are remembered and I shall return.

Disclaimer: I thought it would be evident but emails and other messages speak to the contrary. This is NOT about a person. I chose to personify Africa and America in order to make a vivid metaphor. Hope this clears that up. Lol!