The moment we opened the door, all kinds of things always stumbled out of your closet. There were always tops, skirts, dresses, fancy bras, thongs, jackets, scarves, belts. Your closet is a girls' paradise. And it's what we did year after year-- brought them all down, folded them neatly and stacked them in. It was me who did that. You would lie on your side and talk to me, watch me at the ritual and punctuate the folding with laughter and quiet thoughts spoken out loud.
In my head, the sun is always at afternoon in your room. The curtains billow in the breeze, like they were on the top of a ship set to sail. Your walls have seen my tears fall. Your pillows have soaked them in. And your arms have held me just right when I wept over men who broke my heart and friends who let me down and relatives who didn't understand.
You never asked too many questions. You knew all I needed was some silence.
Today, I'm this roving woman. Forever ready for the road with my overnight kit resting right next to my laptop. From Johnson's baby cream of our teenage days, I've switched to anti-ageing stuff. From Dove conditioner I've turned to colour-protect.
Yet, every time I walk into what is your abandoned room now, the dresser yawns at me with the mugs I bought you over the years. It's as though it's one of those lazy afternoons when you were here with me.
There's also a half-used bottle of perfume we fought over. But did you know that between sisters, fights are bonds? They are a way of knowing we're not ashamed of the terrible people we can be sometimes. And that whoever we are, with sisters, we're just ourselves. Always.
In my head, the sun is always at afternoon in your room. The curtains billow in the breeze, like they were on the top of a ship set to sail. Your walls have seen my tears fall. Your pillows have soaked them in. And your arms have held me just right when I wept over men who broke my heart and friends who let me down and relatives who didn't understand.
You never asked too many questions. You knew all I needed was some silence.
Today, I'm this roving woman. Forever ready for the road with my overnight kit resting right next to my laptop. From Johnson's baby cream of our teenage days, I've switched to anti-ageing stuff. From Dove conditioner I've turned to colour-protect.
Yet, every time I walk into what is your abandoned room now, the dresser yawns at me with the mugs I bought you over the years. It's as though it's one of those lazy afternoons when you were here with me.
There's also a half-used bottle of perfume we fought over. But did you know that between sisters, fights are bonds? They are a way of knowing we're not ashamed of the terrible people we can be sometimes. And that whoever we are, with sisters, we're just ourselves. Always.
this ushered me inside your room again and upon reaching paragraph two - i looked out the window of your ship and see vultures flying above a turbulent sea of past life events that brought you tears... Sail to Mt Oblivion and cast all of it there. With a placid heart, your journey will be light.
ReplyDelete