tenderhearted.

she would poke fun at you, if only to shroud her heart from view, the heart that grew soft for you too soon. she would make you laugh so effortlessly, you’d find yourself laughing without meaning to, joy bubbling out of your throat. with her, everything would come so easily, like scoring four dozen goals in a season, like sleep after an eight hour flight.

the nicknames she would give you would come easily, too, but she would have a favorite one, milyy mal’chik — that’s what you are, she would think privately, after that first meeting — very sweet. she would conjure up ways to spend time with you, using the english she cobbled together just to speak with you. maybe she would invite you to a museum, or a show, where you wouldn’t have to speak at all, but at least you could experience the same thing, together. (thank you, she would say. for making time to see me.)

she would think of you amidst the mundanities of every day, stopping in her tracks in the center of the grocery aisle to peruse the brands of ginger ale, wondering which one you would like, which one you kept in your fridge at home. she would buy a pack, in case you ever came to visit. if she was feeling brave, she would invite you to stay for dinner one day, worrying over the ingredients, if you would eat them. she would wonder if a meal could open a door — if, one day, it could lead to your lives being intertwined: your favorite meal on the stove, a scarf once forgotten now a fixture on the coatrack. a pair of house slippers, all yours. (come back soon, she would whisper to you in the entryway. visit me whenever you want. you have a home here, now.)

she would pray for that.

what i mean is, she would have loved you like water loves an eroding shore, kissingandkissingandkissing its face — always coming back for more, even though it leaves ruin in its wake, its touch destructive by nature. even though it knows all of this may end too soon, likely by its own hand.

despite this, she would continue to love you; that was her way. my mother — she loved others so well and so hard, she had nothing left to give herself.

yes, trust me, she would have loved you.