HEATHER DAY LET'S FUCKING GO

It is December third. The light is pale. You are not wearing a sweater. That is just one more thing that isn't here, in a room that feels like it is missing many things. But listen. Being chosen is not about winter. It is about all the summer looks that stayed on you a little too long. It is about all the times someone saw you sitting alone and just came to sit beside you. They were picking you, every single time. Do you think being remembered needs a song? You are already the words in someone’s head that they never sing out loud. You are a smell that suddenly brings them back to a memory. You are the name that pops up in their mind when they are worried or very happy, for no reason at all. December is a liar. The sweater pretends it started this feeling. But they cared for you in the hot, still air of August. They care for you right now, in this afternoon. They will care for you in the silly hopeful flowers of April and you were chosen long before the song arrived, long before the sweaters and its trend, in the ordinary heat of August, in every afternoon someone sat beside you.

TWSTECEMBER Day 3: Stargazing