The room was dark. A soft hue of orange emanating from her night light illuminated the curve of her cheeks as she smiled in the still past-midnight silence…

2020 was… challenging, absurd, profound, eye-opening, and peaceful. At its best, I enjoyed the comforts of staying at home and spending a lot of time with family. I exchanged the bustle of sporadic events with an even routine of one-on-one calls.

Like many others, I moved back home during the pandemic. While I do have strong relationships with my family, in the past year we’ve definitely still had our share of conflicts and dramas and emotional blow ups.

2020 is the year when I finally learned how to take less responsibility over other people's emotions. As someone who, by default, often feels the emotional impact on others first, this was a difficult lesson to put into practice.

I honestly used to think that I had love figured out. I viewed love in the same way that I viewed any other undertaking; love was a skill, and with practice, I could improve at it. I was convinced this was enough.

a smirk — smitten, as I enter the room | your disillusioned defiance | my rhetorical reliance | a helpless hand that reaches high into our ethereal tomb

I watch you as you read | I wait on bated breath | as tender, strong hands hold | the weight of stronger minds.

the nights of our Novembers | they turned so naturally together; so naturally, apart | "don't forget to close our garden's gate" | you whispered from the start.