By Melainne C.

Photo courtesy: Badger W.

Almost tried to pretend it wasn’t coming.

Foolishly left the calendar page at ‘January’ as if doing so would sufficiently repress all memory of an approaching fact. The age I’ve been dreading for the longest time. Especially when you soon realise you’ve hit the first quarter of your personal life expectancy. Like a mid-life crisis, except mine’s a quarter life crisis.

by Melainne C.

People have always had some difficulty pronouncing my name. Not that it was particularly difficult, but it seemed to be a little bit of a tongue twister for the less articulate. Even as a child I often asked my mother how exactly my name was pronounced.

When I was younger I had welcomed it, glad that I had the proud badge of individuality emblazoned across my heart. I didn’t have to share my name with a hundred thousand other Melainnes, didn’t have to meet another Melainne, be confused with another Melainne, or turn around accidentally when some other Melainne was called instead.

My peers cursed and swore at having another Michelle in the class. They’d tell me jealously, “I wish I had a unique name, too!”

“Am I glad!” I’d think secretly to myself.

by Melainne C.

With the sudden deluge of broken celebrity marriages once claimed to be “made in Heaven”, one wonders about the true essence of Marriage and the meeting of soulmates — if such a thing even exists.