my baby bracelet

Many moons ago (more like a few days actually), I was on a rush to go out of the house when my trustworthy bracelet almost got torn. Now, as any normal human being I'd gasp and check if it's still intact then move on. I said normal ;)

Well, my reaction was pretty far from normal towards an ugly worn out bracelet. 

My breath hitched, my heartbeats were faster and my eyes stung. I looked down to find my hands shaking, the fingertips of my left hand tracing over the very, now, thin string that's holding this bracelet together. Even after I was sure that she's okay (yes she's a she), the tears didn't stop rolling down and that was when I realised it. This ugly blue bracelet around my wrist means to me so much more than an ugly bracelet.

First of all, let's begin with her name, and that would be 'baby'. Baby is her name for so many reasons. It's so peculiar to other people when I mention that I wish my name was baby (and by other people I mean two of my friends), yet imagine everyone calling you baby. You'd be everyone's baby and that's a win in my book. Other than the fact that the main characters' car on my favourite tv show has a huge impact on their lives AND her name is baby, the blue bracelet's name is baby because basically, she's my baby. 

I know I've mentioned several times now that baby's colour is blue, but to be specific it's baby blue with black stripes, or the opposite (enter the whole zebra stripes dilemma). Or that what it used to be. Baby's now teal, as a result of what she went (and still going) through. The teal's bracelet story is quite simple really. On one boring day in 8th grade, an old friend decided to sell her bracelets for 10 pounds each and as always I had no money. This story would've been so much more interesting if I said I stole it, but unfortunately I didn't. I chose Baby and told my back then friend that I will bring her the money the next day. I never brought the money and she never asked. 

Now, to the most emotional (kind of?) part, and basically the main point. First, you need to know my name to connect with me through this journey. Call me Baby Vol 1. You may be asking yourself right now 'Why, Baby Vol 1, are you so attached to Baby?' Well I'm glad you asked. I met Baby in 8th grade, and she's still with me up to this day (i'm in uni, not cool). Baby stuck by my side more than most of the people I know, and that's alone is something. Baby went through the changes with me, grew with me and was there for the rebellious times too. I'm proud to say that I'm not the same person I was back when I met Baby. Baby was right there when I was healing from my first heartbreak in 9th grade and when I gathered the courage to tell my parents about my first 'B' grade in 10th. I had Baby right by my side when I first got betrayed by my close friends, she was there holding strong for me. She was two years old by then. Baby was there, allowing me to hold on to her when I went to tennis practice in 11th grade and was ashamed of how my body looked in comparison to the other girls. Baby was there when the best year of my life happened, 12th grade. She travelled with me and my friends, climbed mountains (literally) with me and stayed till 2 am in business classes in Ramadan with me. Baby listened as I ranted about the crush I had on the book boy in biology class, the football boy in business, the funny guy also in business and my hot 21 year old neighbour. She stayed up late to go through my mental breakdowns with me (which in comparison to what im going through now was a lot of fun). Last but not least, Baby was there in my graduation when I was the most vulnerable knowing that everything's as I know it about to change.

To be completely honest, I was waiting for Baby to die at any moment in the summer break. She's weak. Way too weak. All the strings holding her together broke, except for two thin ones. two out of hundred. Little did I know that Baby knew something I didn't; that the time I will need her the most is yet to come. and she was right. I got into uni, with baby still fighting strong for me. Now, 6 months into uni and everything's getting worse. I can feel Baby breaking too. She watched me standing under the hot water, crying in the shower too many times lately. She's dying. 

This is an appreciation little story for Baby as I know how she consumed everything I felt for the past 6 years. I appreciate her for still trying to fight up to this day, to help me make it through. We're connected. However, if she dies anytime soon I don't blame her. She did what she could to stay with me. It's still hard though.

We're connected.

If Baby dies, it means Baby Vol 1 did too.