This is not a poem.

But this morning, when my psychologist asked me, "what do you see yourself in upcoming years, with a family of your own? what is a family to you?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

I see myself ...
...with the love of my life, coming home from the hospital after giving birth to our healthy and happy eldest. Flash forward.
...witnessing the love of my life teaching our children to ride a bike. A joy squealing comes from theirs. Flash forward.
...recording their first big moments: first walk, first word, first book. Flash forward.
...holding our eldest on the first day of school. She/he'd be scared but they know that I'll pick them up after school for an ice cream session. Flash forward.
...having dinner in the warm dining room with the love of my life, and our 2 children. We had just come home from a long tiring day, and the four of us were telling each other about our day. After our children passed out, we both drank red wine and slowly danced a little more. Flash forward.
...doing our Sunday family tradition: it would be eating out for lunch, inviting our extended family for a dine-in, or going to a bookstore. Or simply a lazy Sunday morning when we snuggled in bed.
...sitting with them when they have their first heartbreak. Ears were open, and arms were hugged. Not judgment. Flash forward.
...
...
...
pictures come in flashes until I see myself snuggled in an armchair with the love of my life with grey hair, passing hot chocolates to my grandkids. Watching the sunrise with my kids and their spouses and their beautiful healthy children.

I want to witness every big and small moment of my loved ones, to be part of their growth, to be present, and also sit in silence with them, to be their safe haven when things go wrong and heavy. I want to celebrate every victory, big or small, or even baby steps. So I guess a family to me is a safe space to grow, to rest my bones, to be for one another, to create this tiny little tradition that my children will carry on their sleeves until they grow up. I want to witness their growth and dreams in every aspect, whether it would make them black and blue, but they know exactly they have their parents by heart. To provide them with warm embraces and warm foods they would miss when they're longing for home. I want my children to know that they are not difficult to love when this world gets hard.

I guess so far, that's a family to me.

i long to spend the rest of my sunrises with you,
wrap in a blanket with our hands tangled.
my cheeks are red and warm,
while you held your coffee that I made earlier.

i long to walk for the rest of my life with you,
until our feet hurt from walking too much.
for the love of discovering the uncharted oceans,
and exploring the city we both loathe yet love.

i long to fight with you in the meanest way,
to the desperation tears until the hug you give.
the heat is there,
but we know we won't leave each other's back.

i long to crawl beside you after a hell of a day,
to listen for your stories has always been one of my salvation.
....and in that tender of a surreal night,
i long to calm the monsters' clawing inside you.

there was a time when you hold me tight,
i healed your hint of the essence.

there was a time my head was drought with the thought of you,
intoxicatingly, i couldn't remember my name.

there was a time
we tangoed this cursed dark labyrinth with its tight rope,
but baby we lost our balance.

there was a time when i fought my own demon just for you,
but it is never enough.

there was a time when our battlefield rhymed with tears and blood,
until you left me wounded.

there was a time when i used to be your single-floor home,
until you traded me with a bigger, pretty house on the market.

there was a time when we were both madly in love,
until one of us lost our mind.

there was a time when you lit me like your first cigarette,
lingeringly and without hesitation, you dropped me to the ground.

and there will be a time you are going to miss our darling life,
but in the flicker of time, i will be happier on my own.
Because baby, i am the best muse you could ever have.

Like the calm ocean,
you came in peace.
I never expected you to be here,
never rush.
It just came naturally.
I could cross you perfectly,
but I don't ever want to swim against your tide.
You are your own kind of beautiful,
with your glistening grace of my fave color.
I want to be around you,
your warm sensation against my pale skin.

I was an iceberg.
Cold, acting so tough.
But deep down you knew that I was vulnerable,
something everyone can not see.
The scorching flare is always there,
but in the end, I melt into your embrace.
Whenever the storm comes,
I always knew we have each other.

I remember your shades of blue,
just like you wore your favorite jeans.
How could you love a yellow in me,
out of thousands of beautiful hues out there?

It hits me, and the memories start.
Car rides out of town,
fast food for supper,
your obsession over ice sweet tea and your favorite local sports team,
breakfast I made,
walking in the rain with my yellow coat while you soaking wet,
or when you promised to take me to your fave martabak parlor.
Or when our friends tried to pair us every time. No.
We haven't been there yet, have we?

You were surprised by how I love fries dipped in a mcflurry,
but then you loved it.
Countless midnight we breathe each other jokes,
or when you told me about your future you worried.
About promises, we are going to break.
Twice, I loved and love two souls.

You gave me your love and I let them die.
In between ice cream and books and your sweet disposition,
I did awful things, didn't I?
We haven't spoken since I went away.
Twice, and you are still there.

They said you will fall in love until it hurts, or bleeds,
or fades in time.
But I wish you knew that
I'd never forget you as long as I'd live.

It's 3 o'clock in the morning,
awaking in a distant land from where I called home.
Too far, to be gone,
I am here at last.

It's 3 o'clock in the morning,
who needs some rest in the city that never sleeps?
So I toss my sleeping pills onto the window,
for I am no longer walk absentmindedly in a labyrinth.

It's 4 o'clock in the morning,
too much noise from the roommate's snore to block.
I quietly closed the door behind me,
escaping the confusion and worries away.

It's 4 o'clock in the morning,
as I walk to the mighty Brooklyn Bridge.
Stand still gracefully in between two places,
ignoring what goes and going in life.

Come, morning light, I whispered to myself,
flaneuring in the middle of serene darkness.
Hoping the light will come,
on this endless pavement.

It's 4 o'clock in the morning,
as I do recall those nights wishing I was here.
In the state of peaceful mind,
overjoyed for searching the rhymes of my heart.

It's suddenly 5 o'clock in the morning,
time to go home.
With a crimson tinted sky above my head,
the sun appeared and it was a brand new day.