Freedom is hot baths🌻

~★~
Zoey
~★~

I remember that there was a time in my life where I'd spend hours bathing. Hours.

I don't know when it started, but I do know why, only now, but back then, I avoided the why.

The water needed to be scalding hot and filled to the brim. I'd sink into the bathtub, my stiff, rigid bones would melt, relaxing into the water and I'd release one long tired breath that felt like it had been stuck in my chest for a while.

While getting used to the water, my mind would be clear of all thoughts, I'd simply feel, and look and sometimes hum. I found comfort, safety, a place to be vulnerable and not be ashamed in those scalding hot baths or showers.

Although the thoughts did eventually come, they were slow-paced, peaceful, random Tuesday thoughts, as I liked to call them. Thoughts that weren't all that deep, but kinda were. Thoughts that were funny and weird, and made me smile on my own, or think of a friend or a moment.

It was a Friday morning. I had planned the night before, to wake up hours earlier, simply because I needed more time to bathe.

When I woke up it was still dark, the wind pushed past the curtains in soft waves, leaving the room in a cold breeze. When I walked on my bedroom floor, heading for the bath, the leaves crunched beneath my feet.

When the bath was full, the steam rose up, and I dipped in, ignoring the scorching feeling of the heat on my skin, I'd get used to it. I opened a little cold water when it was  unbearable, but soon it settled into the perfect heat. I released the breath that was stuck in my chest, laying back, my eyes fluttering shut. That was where I found my peace, in the thoughtless abyss of a hot bath. I  stayed like that for a long time.

I wouldn't know when exactly it started, it was never a conscious decision, but it was something free, something about me that floated along with the moment. A melody of a song, tuned out of me, a soft hum that I enjoyed hearing the echo of in the acoustics of the bathroom. I splashed, and twirled the water in my hands, I cupped it and spilled it and cupped it and spilled it again.

Turning from my front to my back, to my front to my back, creating little waves in the bathtub, all so that every part of me could relish in the heat, the comfort of the hot water.

The water got lukewarm quickly that day, and my hands and feet were all pruny already. I remember quickly draining all that water, all to refill the bath with more scalding hot water. The shame of my mother, finding out how much water I wasted on a daily basis hit me but I shook it off, it was something I couldn't compromise on.

Then, I got a Tuesday thought and it was unexpectedly about Mariam.

Sometimes when Mariam texted boys she asked me for the right reaction because she was left speechless. She was  either too flattered or too annoyed.

Ever since she started dating this one guy, from this all boys school (I know), she'd been showing her texts more often than not. His name was Jason and I didn't like him.

We were in the field, and it was during break. Asanda and I were having a conversation, that she decided not to be a part of because she was texting her boyfriend.

I plucked grass off the floor, trying not to show Mariam how irritated I was at her behaviour. I  never had a boyfriend before, so it's not like I understood the whole  'I don't want to talk to anyone else but you' phase.

Mariam lifted her head after texting for a long while.

"He says that he loves me like the sun loves the moon."

I rolled my eyes and Asanda laughed, almost choking on the peanut cluster she nibbled on.

Mariam raised her brows, asking for help in responding to him.

So now she wants to talk to me.

" Tell him that he's an idiot and the sun doesn't love the moon. It's nature's main attraction but you don't hear me saying that I love you like the grass loves the soil."

Mariam snorted but said, "He's being poetic."

Asanda chuckled. “Yah. He's being poetic, Zoey.”

"He's being stupid and the sun and moon will never be together so that says a lot about his love."

"Who hurt you?" Mariam teased and the two of them fell into fits of laughter.

"No, what you should be asking is why was I blessed with such a powerful shield of common sense that can't be penetrated by any boy."

"Whatever," Mariam went back to texting Jason, probably the opposite of what I told her.

Asanda sighed and she grabbed Mariam's phone, switching it off. Mariam shrieked, trying to fight for her phone but it was futile.

“Can we atleast have the last minutes of break with you Mariam? I'm sure your boyfriend can wait a few more hours for a text.”

Mariam sighed, sinking back into the floor. “Fine let's talk.”

A silence ensued, we all sighed and then burst into an unexplainable fit of laughter.

“I think I love him.” Mariam said, ruining the moment.

Asanda and I shared a look.

“You said the same thing about Tristan.” Asanda stated, nibbling on more peanut clusters.

“And the others. Apparently you have all the love to give Mariam.” I remarked.

“Ha. Ha. Laugh at me but haven't you ever thought of love, Asanda or hoped for it or- I don't know.”

Mariam stared at Asanda, waiting.

Asanda responded, a long answer that was stringed together with lots of contradicting thoughts. I don't remember what she said because I was so lost in Mariam's question, yet when she came to me my mind went blank.

"Haven't you ever thought about it, Zoey? Even just for a moment. Haven't you thought about falling in love." Mariam asked, with this intense look in her eyes, a passionate flame.

Slowly, I shook my head. The thought was unfathomable, it made me uneasy. I met her curious eyes, feeling more exposed than I would have liked to, feeling judged.

"Falling in love with a man. I'd never want to put myself in that situation... so desperate...so vulnerable...so—" I shook my head, "I don't think love's for everyone and that's okay.”

~★~

The thought of falling in love..

Releasing my braids from their tight high bun, I sank further into the hot water, eyes fluttering shut. I held my breath, feeling the water glide into my scalp.

And when I sank, nothing mattered.
Floating aimlessly in my mind, it felt like I was simply made for doing just that.

The water blocked my ears, creating a new sound of silence, except for the water that I swirled around with my hands, which was slow and drowning in its sound.

My chest constricted, it was tight as I held my breath, all to stay underwater.

This was my favourite part of the hot baths, sinking with my head and my hair, mind completely clear of all thoughts, heart freed from every overwhelming feeling, except this tight, constricting one from holding my breath.

And I remember, on that Friday, I held my breath for a long while, it was almost painful, I would have stayed in longer except I heard a distant faint sound of knocking.

At first I thought I imagined it, but it was incessant but nothing could break through to the sound-proof water that blocked the world from me, only if I let it.

It was when I thought I heard a voice, no clarity in the words being spoken because the water sealed that, it was then, that I rose, like from death to life, taking in a lung filling breath.

Wiping the water of my eyes I  coughed, getting used to breathing again and it was clear—my mother's scolding and banging of the bathroom door.

“Zoey! Why aren't you answering me? You're still bathing? How long have you  been in there, I have to get to work.”

“S-sorry mama. I'm almost done!”

My mother released a frustrated grunt, and I heard her footsteps walking further away.

With all the energy I could muster up, I started bathing, getting the soap, lathering it on my washing rag and bathing. I couldn't help but laugh, although I suppressed it, in case she heard.

After those baths, I always felt squeaky clean, because I'd scrub and scrub and scrub until my skin was raw and maybe it wasn't good but it felt right.

Again, I don't know when it started, but I do know why, only now, but back then, I avoided the why.

~★~

It was the 5th of May, 2012, Mariam had been reminding both Asanda and I about that date, since the year started.

It was the day Mariam would audition with a number of other models in Gauteng for the chance to be the next best thing in the world of fashion. Mariam wanted our support, something neither of us took for granted.

She made us mark the date on our calendars, and said that her boyfriend, Jason was coming and that it would be the perfect time for all three of us to meet.

It was a Saturday, the sun rose, its rays shining through my curtains and before I could sleep in, I remembered what day it was.

I dressed in a purple hoodie, with grey sweatpants and sneakers. Pulling the hoodie’s top over my head, and letting my braids fall at the sides, I left the house.

Unlike me, Asanda wasn't able to make it to the audition that day. Her mother took her and her brother's away, to KwaZulu Natal to visit a sick family member.

I was honestly glad Asanda wasn't going to be there that day, it flooded my heart with relief and made me feel guilty at the same time.

It was simply because she'd been asking a lot of questions about Zolani more and more each day. Her questions while innocent exposed the holes of the lies that I made up.

“This soccer academy, the one Zolani went to, what's the name of it again?” Asanda asked.

“Doesn't Zolani call or video call? Doesn't he send pictures? I'd send pictures if I was away from my family?”

“Why don't you guys go visit him, since he's so busy, kicking balls? And take me along with you maybe I'll knock some sense into his head and tell him to come back home.”

The answers I'd give to her questions were honestly quite embarrassing and stupid and I always said it in this soft, wavering uncertain voice that sounded nothing like me. Asanda would simply stare, burning up my lies, with her honest gaze and compassion.

“This doesn't sound like Zolani at all.” Asanda said the day before, “ I know he loves soccer and all but I also know how much he loves you and he tries to deny it but we all know, that boy's a mama's boy…” and she just left it hanging there, as if waiting for me to tell the truth.

The audition was held in a movie theater in Johannesburg. The whole place was dim except for the spotlight upfront where the stage with all the  models lined up. The judges, who were four, all sat in the front row, with tables and notes with water bottles.

I got there late, they had already started.

I took a seat at the back, watching Mariam on the stage with a dozen other young models who looked like they were born in paradise and not earth.

Mariam looked good too, her hair was slicked up, tied into a bun, that way her face was open, glowing. She was dressed in a floral dress that held her figure and flowed from there. It made her look taller and older, like a woman.

I noticed only later, that a few seats to the left, sat a boy who looked quite familiar. He walked in moments ago. I remember seeing his photo more times than I'd like to on the screen of Mariam's Blackberry.

Finally, I sat next to the notorious boyfriend of Mariam. Meeting your friend's boyfriend is weird in a way. You sort of know everything about him, have heard all the stories and now poof, there they  are in front of you.

He was handsome, that's for sure, the type of handsome that couldn't be ignored. He walked into the audition room with this air of confidence, his shoulders squared, his eyes meeting Mariam's, smiling charmingly at her even from a distance.

"Hi, you must be Zoey," he moved from where he was, and took the seat next to me. He reached for a side hug, and smiled.

"You must be Jason."

He offered me a salute, like he loved the sound of his name.

We sat in silence for thirty minutes, just watching Mariam and the models do what they were told to do on stage. Mariam's nerves were invisible to anyone who didn't know her but from time to time, she lifted her eyes making them meet with mine, flashing me a nervous smile. I smiled back.

"So..." I finally spoke.

He looked at me like he wasn't expecting me to speak for the whole two hours we would be here.

"Yes."

"What do you think about Mariam becoming a model?"

He smiled, an easy smile. "It's...sexy." he turned his head back to the stage, expecting me to be done with the conversation.

"Why do you like Mariam?"

My question hung in the air, a tense pause. I could see the build up of irritation in his dark eyes but he covered it with that easy smile, boys make.

"She's absolutely beautiful."

Obviously.

But I didn't look down on his answer, because I could see the admiration in his dark eyes, and he couldn't help but turn ahead of him, gazing at Mariam, completely smitten.

The smile on my face was unfightable, although I was trying my very best to be my friend's father.

"What else?"

He turned back to me, his smile faltering for a second. The pause ensued again but this time it was more uncomfortable.

"She's got a lovely voice."

Mariam was a terrible singer, but I nodded anyway.

"She's funny."

Why is it always funny? I'm not one to put my point across but are all of us really that funny. I mean, yes we can make a joke from time to time but funny...

Comedians would be out of a job if everyone was that funny. Mariam made me laugh but not in the stomach hurting, my guts are about to burst way.

Funny was just a cover up boys did when they had no other thing left to say. Normally it came second to she's beautiful.

There were hilarious girls out there but definitely not as many as these boys claimed there  to be.

"She's kind."

I almost snorted at the other answer. Since  almost everyone was always complimented as being kind the world should've been a way better place.

I wouldn't describe Mariam as kind. She was sentimental and sweet sometimes but she gossiped like an addict and she said what was on her mind like she was paid to do it.

Jason could tell I wasn't loving his answers, it was in my silence and probably my facial expression that was calling him a liar so he switched it up.

Jason started saying all the things, I hoped he would say in the beginning. He went deep, he talked a lot about his feelings for Mariam in a way that was sweet to the ears but a plain lie.

He was lying straight to my face, maybe some part of him wanted to mean the words he was saying but he didn't.

He spewed on words like they were rehearsed and prepared, trying his best to please me so that I could send a good report to Mariam.

That's the second I stopped listening to him, I blurred out his voice. I didn't want to hear any more of it because it saddened me even more.

Was love between a boy and a girl always this superficial?

Mariam was more than beautiful. She was also extremely intelligent, although she tried to hide it, pretending like she didn't care for school but coming third in class.

She was ambitious, dreaming big since the moment I met her in eighth grade. She heard what people said behind her back about her dreams but she used that as fuel to carry on.

Her confidence was contagious.

She was probably more than I even knew at that moment but he was supposed to know at least some of it.

He was supposed to like her for more than just the superficial stuff because everybody could do that and since Mariam's goal was to become a famous model, everyone would do that. Something told me that she'd need someone who liked her/loved her for more.

"Yeah, yeah I hear you," I cut him off ," just one last thing. You know that quote that's been going around about how a woman is as valuable as a diamond."

He shook his head.

"Well, Mariam doesn't need to be like a diamond to be valuable and one of a kind. She just needs to be Mariam.

~★~

That night my Blackberry pinged with messages on BBM from Mariam.

Mariam
So what did you think of him?🙃

23:25

Me
He's very much…a human being

23:29

Mariam
Zoey! I'm being serious, this is important.

23:31

Me
Fine, he's handsome, which is something you aim for in a guy, so that's  good.

23:33

Mariam
You don't like him?

23:33

Me
No. But what do I know?  I don't have a romantic bone in my body, so you should ask someone else. Maybe let Asanda meet him when she gets back.

23:37

Mariam
I will. Your approach to love is depressing, you really don't get it.
Goodnight.

23:40

I knew Mariam was a little upset.And I knew that I could've been a lot kinder, there was more to Jason than just looks but I was hardly interested.

Mariam's text kinda hurt, it shot a pang through my heart and left me thinking, while I laid my head on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

I thought of love, the all encompassing, overwhelming high that many seemed to chase after.

A lot ran through my mind, thoughts spiraling out of control, pulling from within me and leaving me drained.

It was weird, and it was  crazy but also it was none of those things, it was simply unexplainable but sometimes I found myself staring at girls, girls I knew well, and I’d watch them simply be themselves and then I would think, she looks like a girl someone can fall madly in love with.

That night, as I lay in bed, thinking, I thought about how every time I looked in the mirror, I didn't look like the girl someone could fall in love with.

I'd have to change, filter, edit a few things for it to be possible and it left my spirits deflated, then I felt silly because it wasn't even something that I wanted.

I guess it hurt,  because I felt like I wasn't worthy of it and then I felt like taking a hot bath, because none of it would matter and I could simply sink in comfort.