Love, Poetry, & Coffee

~ 48 ~

"It's cool to know that you and your parents send a letter to one another," Sarah mutters under her breath as I give the letter to the person working behind the counter in the post office. "The effort to write a letter just to let them know you're doing alright shows how much you love them." She gives me a small smile as I finish up the procedure.

"Well, sometimes I forgot to write a letter back to them." I shrug both my shoulders as I push away from the counter, "The only instance that I remember to write back is when they sent another letter to me."

She shoves me playfully as we both exited out of the post office, "If that's the case, then you need someone to remind you to write back a letter to your parents."

Both of us chuckle at that plan, but there's a something inside of me telling me to stop her from reminding me, since that's not her job in the first place. "You don't have to do that. I don't want you to feel obligated to remind me to something that I must remind myself to do," I place a hand on her shoulder and give it a soft pat.

She pouts a little and then shoves my hand off her shoulder, "Come on, what if your parents get extremely worried that you haven't sent back a letter to them?" Her eyes light up as if she just realized something crucial. "Do they visit you sometimes?"

A give her a nod, "They do sometimes visit, but it's not the once in a month visit." When she tilts her head in an angle, that itself signals me to elaborate even further. "I don't know exactly when they'll be free to visit. My parents been working to run the family business. So, their visit will be only by chance, but when it's the holidays, I'm the one who's visiting them." I give her another soft smile, since I appreciate talking about my family to someone close to me. It's funny how I never met someone who looks interested in learning about my backstory. I feel like I'm some kind of mystery character in the background in some novel or something. "Since I've talked about my parents, how about yours?"

She narrows her eyes and seem to have focused on nothing in particular. "They're just like yours actually, but the only difference is, I'm the only one who visit them since they would rather not leave the comfort of their neighborhood."

That made me release a hearty laughter, "I'm guessing the neighborhood your parents live is kind and amazing?"

She gives me a nod before saying, "It's worrying that there are some people living in such a terrible neighborhood. I'm actually glad that my parents worked hard to raise me in a kind neighborhood instead of the once they had when I'm still in my mama's womb." Her gaze focuses on the pavement we are walking on.

Still, my brain didn't stop itself from muttering, "Hmm, yes. The floor here is made out of floor." Luckily, I didn't say that out loud since Sarah looks like she's battling demons in her mind. I'm guessing she's imagining if her parents hadn't moved away from the terrible neighborhood. I instinctively place a hand behind her back as pat her gently, as if to reassure her that whatever she's imagining won't happen. Especially that her parents are living in a nice neighborhood.

***

It's bad enough for me to remember the times I hang out with Sarah, but having a sudden flashback about the past when I'm happy in the present is just something. It also made me realize that Sarah ain't that bad of a person. Right before, I thought her desire to help other people to be better is the problem. The issue is actually me being stubborn to change my tactics on reaching a dream.

After sending away the letter in the hands of the employee of the post office, Constance and I continue on our journey to fetch chocolate syrup for Aileen. "You know what I just realized?"