ME & HIM ✔︎

2

thursday, april 30, 2020

𐂂𐂂𐂂 UPDATED.
••••

I woke up at 10, a late start to the day but not unusual for a Saturday. The weekend stretched out before me like a blank page, offering nothing in particular. There was a slight chill in the air as I pulled myself out of bed, my body moving sluggishly as if protesting the idea of being upright. I slid into my slippers, the familiar softness grounding me for a moment before I wandered over to the window. The blinds resisted a bit as I tugged them open, the morning light flooding in with a kind of harsh clarity that made me squint.

No notifications. The usual.

I glanced at my phone, not really expecting much. No notifications. It's almost routine at this point—checking out of habit, knowing there won't be anything.

It's strange. I have the apps. Instagram, TikTok, all the platforms that keep people connected, but lately, they've felt pointless. The scrolling, the endless parade of other people's lives—it's like standing in the middle of a crowded room and feeling utterly alone. There's a distance between me and everything I see there, as if the things that mattered to me once don't hold the same weight anymore.

And then, like every other day, my mind drifted back. Yesterday, last week, last summer—it's always there, hovering just beneath the surface. I've been trying to stay positive, to keep moving forward, but grief has this way of creeping in when you least expect it. It doesn't ask for permission. It just settles in and stays for as long as it wants.

The death of someone you love—it's not something you ever really get over. People tell you time heals, but they never tell you how much time. Or if that healing just means learning how to live with the pain. It's a wound that closes, but the scar remains, tender and unyielding. And even though I know life is finite, that we all have a limited time here, the knowledge doesn't make it hurt any less. It doesn't make the absence any easier to carry.

So here I am, standing at the window, phone in hand, sunlight streaming into the room, and all I can think about is the heaviness that follows me. I'm trying to let it go, trying to move forward, but some mornings it feels like I'm still stuck in the same moment, trying to figure out how to navigate a world that doesn't feel the same without them.

My thoughts were still swirling when another knock on the door pulled me back.

"Open."

"Good morning, China." My aunt Clarissa smiled as she strolled into my room.

"Do you have any plans today?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know yet. Maybe go to the library."

"Girl, come on! Why not go to a party instead? Have some fun!" She spun me around playfully.

I laughed, gripping her hands. "Aunt Clarissa, you won't convince me to go to some wild party."

She rolled her eyes, "If that's your definition of fun then so it be. But i ain't going with you. Take the bus."

I nodded. "Of course. That's what I always do everyday, anyway."

You could tell she was the fun aunt, always trying to pull me out of my shell.

"Alright, get ready and come downstairs. Breakfast is ready." She gave my back a playful pat as she turned to leave.

"I'm not really hungry today. A girl goin skip" I said setting my phone down on my bed.

"Uh-huh. You are coming downstairs after you get ready, and you are eating. Breakfast is important. I said what I said." With that, she closed the door behind her. I rolled my eyes, already missing the silence.