How to survive your Albanian *not* family (Applicable to blood relatives too)

“Si jeni?” you ask your *not* relatives inaudibly, scared that your pronouncing it wrong despite having said it a million times before. You try to be as calm as possible despite the fact you’re mad at your parents for not telling you about them coming over as they’d know you’d get anxious. That and you’re on the verge of an anxiety attack. They look at you and you say it again slightly louder this time, still undetectable to the average Albanian ear. “Nuk flet shqip?” They’ll ask your parents, as they do every time for some reason, expecting me to have lost the ability to speak the language you speak to them on an unfortunately regular basis. “Ai e flet shumë mirë!” They’ll say, defending their honor. You don’t entirely agree but you know enough swear words to have a proper Albanian conversation.

                    You show your *not* cousin to your room to avoid the adults talking about how much their backs hurt from working and how customers treat them like they’re stupid because they have an accent. They laugh at memes on Facebook about how back in their day kids played with rocks and were misogynistic for fun. That kids these days are so spoiled with their iPhone 1000s  and their empathy. You feel bad for lumping your mother into your previous statement but not enough to retract it. You ask your *not* cousin about how school is going for him, not that you really care, but you think that maybe if they’re talking they won’t notice that you’re scrolling through your phone. You still listen and ask questions based on what you hear of course. You’re not rude, well at least when you’re not trying to be. They ask you the same and you say school’s ok while they scroll through their phone. 

                    “Dinner’s ready!” your *not* auntie will call just as you start actually edifying conversation. You wash your hands and sit at the table ready for the same questions as usual. 

“Ti nuk ha?” your *not* auntie laughs

“I already ate” you respond 

“Not even this chicken your mum made? Ushte shume e mire” she says

“E di, but I’m vegitarian” you say. 

“If I was vegitarian I wouldn’t even have the energy to speak” you force a laugh and look at your mum, both stifling genuine laughter as you both wished the same thing.

“Ke nji girlfriend” your *not* uncle asks.

“I’m focusing on my studies” you lie. You do focus on education but that’s not why you’re not on the dating scene. You wonder how long the education excuse will hold as you’re sure that revealing that the family’s scion is gay will be harder to swallow than your *not* auntie’s food.

Having heard the word studies your dad will gloat about your grades. Everybody congratulates you, apart from your *not* cousin, and you try to understate your achievements partially because you don’t think it was that special and partially because you don’t want your mum to perform the salt into fire ritual to avert the evil eye on you after your *not* relatives leave. Luckily they all say mashallah. 

                    After dinner, you say “Lumshin duret” and your mum will say “Beft mire” proud she raised such a well-mannered son and glad she can gloat about it too. Before you can run into the safety of your room, you’re asked to “ulu me burat”. Yay! You think to yourself all I’ve ever wanted was to be bored out of my mind seeing people kick a ball for more than ninety minutes. You somehow forget the ‘ulu’ part is easier said than done, seen as their manspreading has taken up two sofas. You still get crushed with both your legs virtually dislocated on top of each other. You say you want to help the ladies with the washing up.

                    Then comes the time where not teze and not xhaxhai have to leave because your cousin has school tomorrow. What will you do without them except for not having anxiety attacks when in your own home and not almost crying over second-hand embarrassment? Your *not* auntie gives you money and your mum does the same to your not cousin and you sit back as they fight each other due to the fact they can’t accept the money. “Ke lujt menç”  they’ll say. Ignoring the fact that both are giving away £20 each so they’re essentially fighting over nothing. You wave them goodbye and as soon as the door shuts you have the same argument with your parents about how they’ve betrayed your trust by not telling you about their arrival in advance. You shake the day off because you want to play video games and text your actual auntie and sister about it and recover for next time.

Nicki Minaj

She’s here! I unbox her as soon as I see the box. “Young Money” she beams as I switch her on. I’m so glad I got Nicki Minaj over Rihanna, although I’d appreciate the water sign solidarity, Beyonté already has two and she lets me borrow her sometimes. I take a selfie with Nicki before we even speak and upload it on Instagram, it takes me a while to think of what meme I should use for the caption.

I’m the talk of the school the next day. I sit with Nicki next to Beyonté and her two Rihannas and Sana and her Megan thee Stallion. We barely pay attention to form as is but today we are especially distracted. We all take pictures and post them online and make TikToks, using the right emojis and all lowercase captions.

Ms. Jones lets us out of form early as she wants alone time with her Tom Jones before her year 8 class arrives. Beyonté walks me outside Jane’s form, she and her four Cardi Bs made fun of me last week for not having anyone. As soon as the bell goes Nicki bodies all the Cardis in a rap battle. After all, Jane did bring Cardis to a Nicki fight. If she bought the ghost-writer DLC, it might resemble a fair battle, but I wouldn’t bet on her even then. I discuss with Beyonté if I should save up for a new celebrity or wait for the ultimate edition upgrades for things we’ve already paid for.

We start walking to class and pass Jishnu and his Doja Cat. I feel bad for him as he got her two days before she got canceled for using the f slur. He says he doesn’t regret his decision, he’s either very stubborn or very stupid. It’s probably a bit of both. I pass Sanj and her Ariana Grande, MAX, and Blue Franklin, I’m way more suited for all three of them, I’m surprised she even knows about Blue.  I knew about him before he was cool, so I obviously deserve him more. We pass Tatjana and her Taylor Swift, we smile and make small talk, but we don’t stay too long because she’s annoying. We don’t have a reason as to why we feel that way, but we don’t need one.

In science, Nicki gives Amina’s Miley Cyrus dirty looks, but they both burst into laughter, I’m glad that didn’t escalate. I turn to see Rebecca’s Lizzo and Meghan Trainor, people ask her why she brings Meghan with her when she already has the better version. Rebecca tells them they’re missing the point. Abraham has a David Attenborough. I don’t get what people see in him. Daniel has a Bad Bunny, this goes on my list of people to get later, I love Benito. Bet you Daniel doesn’t even know that’s his real name. Fatima and Sayanh give me a Rina Sawayama and a Brendon Urie because they heard about what happened with Jane last week. I tell them I can’t thank them enough and that I have no choice but to stan the two queens. I make a note to tag them in an appreciation post later. After the lesson we sit with Nicole and Beyoncé, people call her overrated when she deserves all the recognition she gets.

In the afternoon form everyone’s phone pings. We can now get video game characters! I instantly add Catwoman, Loba Andrade, and Mileena to my cart and phone my mum begging her for money. She says I have to wait for my birthday as I just got Nicki. But we’ll see what her Britney Spears will have say about that when I get home.

Groom

My hands shake as I put my face on. I make sure every angle is perfect: my two eyes pop, my lips are pink with life and my smile looks young and new. I look like the first time. I brush my hair looking in the vanity mirror until I see you. Well, the picture of you I’ve always kept in the top left corner of this mirror. I can’t wait to marry you.

I’m so lucky, so lucky to have someone who’s never left my side through better and worse, in sickness and in health. Not even death makes us part. I gently caress the photo, remembering all those good memories: the laughter, the tears, the just being. I was so warm back then. I run my fingers through my hair to make sure there are no knots and place the veil on top. Its lace is tattered by the teeth of time, its lustrous white is now yellow with decay. Through the veil, I can see … it. I can see me. I cry at my reflection, and it hurts, you told me it would, but apparently, it gets better. Or maybe I’d just get used to the pain. I wonder what I ever did to deserve you, who I was in a past life or two to deserve your love and your care?

I pick up the bouquet that’s fragrant and do my best to walk elegantly to the church. I remember how we always said we’d get married here one day; I also remember how I couldn’t keep that promise. How you had to bury me here. Most days I try to forget about it but today I’m ready to face it. My grave, the place they all told you to leave me to rest but you knew this wasn’t our end. All those graveyard shifts, hours of working never truly knowing whether you could make it work. You try to hide it but I know what they said. They called you mad, they said that you couldn’t do it and that it was wrong. But you never gave up. You made a body. You gave me life.

I sit on the dirt that buried me in an eternal slumber I see the graffiti on the headstone. You’ve obviously tried to wash it away but some things you can’t take away no matter how hard you try. Some wounds can never be truly healed. Monster, abomination, perversion of nature. Words that have chased us for as long as we’ve known each other, and I don’t see that getting any better now. But I know that those words aren’t us, we are so much more. I lay my head on my headstone and feel the wind on my face. I see more mimosas on the dirt. I remember picking these with you a lifetime ago. I don’t think I’d met anyone who knew the flower instead of the drink let alone have it also be their favourite flower. I inspect the flowers further and I can see that their canary radiance has dulled, its so fragile, I’m almost too scared to touch their withering souls. I place them in the bouquet. There’s so much beauty in this world some that others can’t see. I feel so lucky that I get to see it with you.

I walk to the church doors anxiety trickles down my spine and oozes in my stomach, I’ve not thrown up in this body yet and I’m not keen to get my clothes dirty. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right. And I guess what does makes you stronger too. I push the doors open and I see you: my saviour, my light, my love. I smile as I feel your warmth radiate this heart … my heart pounds in my chest and it hurts. With each step, it feels as if I’m walking through fire or that I’m being eaten alive. But I’m here now. I’m by your side.

You tell me you’re sorry that it hurts, that nobody would marry us, that people will look at us strange.  Before you can say anymore, I tell you that I don’t care. All that matters is me and you. You have gifted me life and love and I intend on paying you back for it. Our whole lives we’ve felt like monsters and even now that isn’t true. So, let’s live, let’s love, let’s dance. The funniest thing is that being an expert of anatomy you’d assume that you would know how to get rid of two left feet.

We kiss and I realise today is the first day of the rest of our lives.