People die
But we carry on with our habits
We still sip 2 cups of turkish coffee 3 times a day
We still reunite around Sunday's meal
We still clean the dishes right after lunch
We still try to close our eyes and sleep
We still take cabs to get to our jobs
We still make little jokes here and there
We still drink hot cocoa in the morning and tea at night
We still sleep in our underwear
We still hug our biggest pillow in bed
We still wear the same perfume
We still nag about going to work
We still take naps
We still carry a notebook everywhere we go
Almost everything goes back to being the same
But there is this little something inside us, not a scar not sadness nor grief nor anger nor denial, but something that has twisted and changed, something that has cried and learned, something that can move a heavier mountain now, something that keeps us going with who we are.
Something like a storm, that destroys all the frail roads and all the frail apartments - a strong hurricane with all the winter's rain that blows away your clothes and makeup and washes you clean again.



- LynnAA

I miss you
I love you
Thank you