Open Letters

you'd think you're okay after swearing to never contact them again, but then you catch yourself hesitate tying your shoelaces in the middle of walking down the street at night.

healing isn't linear. i thought it was going to be, but it still isn't. one second, you're doing well for a month (hanging out with friends, taking down the origami they gave you, being active on social media again), then, on a random thursday night, you smell the perfume they used when you were teenagers, and suddenly, all those good days meant nothing.

in my experience, it was the world coming to a halt. it forcefully gave me the time to process what i was smelling, but it didn't give me the same courtesy when it came to recovering from that one-hit attack.

a bottle of mojitos tequila, any sort of origami, the stupid perfume they used, and even macrame. you could avoid all these things, and i worked hard on doing so. but who would've expected a memory as mundane as them stopping me from walking to tie my shoelaces for me would haunt me.

we dont even live in the same city for most of the year.

it is raining and i am walking back with my sister

our mother is waiting for us with an umbrella

i run under the shade she provides

my sister walks past but mama calls her to go under

it is raining and i am walking back with my mother and sister

our mother urges us both to stay under the umbrella with her