I won’t lie—my writing mojo had packed its bags and gone on an unapproved sabbatical. The other day, Diana texted me, clearly unimpressed, to ask why on earth I’d gone months without giving you guys something to read. “We’re starving here!” she said. I promised her I’d write something soon, but if I’m honest, I had no idea when—or even what—I’d write about. But all credits to Wanyama for this one. You know, the kind of conversation that derails your train of thought but somehow manages to put the wheels back on track? Yeah, that’s the one. So, here we are, all thanks to Wanyama—because if there’s one thing about him, he has a knack for stirring the pot and getting my creative side in motion. For some reason, many believe that men don't cry. Or maybe it's that men shouldn't cry. Perhaps, as some might argue, men were simply not meant to cry. I find myself both agreeing and disagreeing with each of these notions in equal measure. There are moments when holding it in is ...
Everything eventually becomes a tale to tell.
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