softness

It’s all she knows. She’s only 5 after all. And nine, and twelve, and all the ages when I still felt that ‘here’ was home. But not every part of me is welcome in the place I came from. So I will tell her no, and it breaks my heart. Is this how my dad felt? When he had to look me in the eyes and tell me to be a big girl, I thought he was being mean.... See more

A part of me will always be 12, wrapped in four blankets on my parents’ floor. My siblings next to me, eagerly watching the TV in front of us, popcorn and candy in hand. Every Friday, we had the same routine: gather up all the blankets we could find, pop 3 bags of popcorn, and pour the candy into bowls. Our parents wanted to give us the same TGIF... See more

A part of me will always be here. A part of me will always be 5, sitting in the backseat, eyes squeezed shut. I would purposely slump my neck, and if I really wanted to sell it, make a little snoring noise. All this, just so my dad would come and carry me inside the house. I knew full well if I was awake, he’d tell me that my legs worked just fine... See more