Braids in your hair

braids

When we first met, I had braids in my hair.

Mom couldn't undo them before you met me cause you were right in front of our door at seven o'clock that day.

She just didn't want her only child to be bullied in front of the whole class, my name was already hard for them to pronounce correctly and showing up like that would definitely be a statement.

But you smiled at me, so brightly, and I've never felt more seen just like I did that time.

I saw your long curls, the round shape of your nose, your brown eyes, the tan skin and that small mole put perfectly down your left eye. "Thanks Christ Mom talked to your dad", I thought.

That day he gave us a ride so we could chat for a little while and not have to worry about the time. You spoke my language and didn't judge my strong accent. I realized we both were the same, at least in the important ways.

You even told me we could practice together at home. You've always liked talking to people and from that very young age you've already known who to go to for a little help.

I didn't want to ruin the moment by telling you that I knew how to change my accent, that I had learned the pronunciation of each word almost perfectly. I didn't want to sound rude by telling you that I just liked talking with it, pronouncing without trying too hard to sound like them, because it was my family's accent, and that made it my accent to use proudly.
So I just nodded, and that was how all of this "us" started.

Some years later, I stopped wearing my braids every day, reserved for special occasions and domestic situations. I learned you liked to play with my hair, and they just... got in the way.

Still, you missed them from time to time, and I did as well. But it was a surprise when you started braiding them with your own hands, without any hesitation nor repression —just to see them again! —you always said.

Now I braid your hair, just as my mom did with my own when she wasn't afraid.
I braid your hair because I love you, and it's one of the few ways I can get to touch you. One of the few ways I can get to feel you without thinking it's weird, without fearing that at any moment you'd pull away repulsed by the way my heart beats inside my chest.

I silently braid your hair, braiding my memories and feelings for you with each strand.