In
Glue
Growing up, I take pride in being a loner. I hated being in groups. And seeing the gangs in my boarding school acting like their holier-than-thou made me vow to myself that I will never be part of the gang.
But as I grow older, I ended up being branded as the glue of the team. They made it seem like my absence is an unfilled void. But little did they know that I have always been one to be alone, and that back home, I have virtually no one.
I am the black sheep whom they hate seeing at parties. The one they exclude because I am the doom and gloom of the party. And perhaps I come not as one but two, with the latter calling people out for their bullshit, and they hate that. They want to take pride of their work, without people knowing the shams and tricks they pull to get to where they are.
I complain a lot about being underpaid and overworking, but seeing those overpaid and underworked having little to no credibility rise to the top, I realised I was the one who decided to choose this path. And this is what I signed up for, and so, who am I to complain?
But I guess a part of me realises that life is short, and despite their resentment, I won’t see them for long. And so all it took was a simple “shall we visit them?” and endure it together.
The whole time, I was just on my phone. I was after all, half of the black sheep. But they don’t have to know, I was the glue to this eventual visit. And only Allah knows. I did my part, and if I am forever the black sheep, so be it. At least I will die with God knowing that I was the invisible glue that attempted to mend the wood and fabric together.