she. he. him and her.

i got a package today. at work. a letter. a photo album. a home video.

it had been too long.

she, seems to have developed some sharp edges. wrinkles on her neck. those around her mouth seem more pronounced. there is a slight downward curve to her face and the clavicles are definitely protruding. she, is standing in the middle of the kitchen. she reigns in that particular room, you see, and she is proudly showing it off. it’s brand new. she smiles. there is a sparkle in her eye, the lid of which has completely disappeared. i know this woman. i know her well. damn it all to hell, i’m having a hard time making amends with time on her face. her neck. i can’t reconcile. she reminds me of someone i know. it’s startling to see the resemblance, for i was once certain that there wasn’t any. alas. it’s there. she looks like me! i look like her.

she is my mother. i haven’t seen her in five years.

he is the man of my life. he, who persistently showed me self-less love and utter devotion, holds a newspaper in his veiny hands – the very hands that once held and protected me. strong and vibrant, then. he flashes a beaming smile. his upper lip seems to have receded, somewhat. his once salt and pepper hair lacks a sufficient amount of pepper. i rather like it. he wears a light pink button down shirt. i can’t take my eye off that third button. behind it, some flesh and skin, hides his newly flawed heart. wish i could put my ear to his chest. i’d like to confront this capricious organ. and the time lost. there are two deep lines originating from the corner of each eye. they shoot downward. ah time, you were never on my side. behind the glasses i see his eyes. they resonate warmth. wisdom. safety.

he is my father. i haven’t seen him in five years.

him and her are young. and beautiful. him? i have known all my life. her? a new addition. he wears a strong, defined jaw, broad shoulders, strong arms and the most sincere smile. he holds her close to him, arm tightly around her small waist. she is his bride to be. i have never met her. he, who once got ridiculously scratched by and from a little tantrum thrown by yours truly, today wears a confident clean skin. the boy with whom i spent countless summer afternoons, indulging into the art of inventive house-gamery has completely vanished. my partner in crime who once, out of pure boredom, threw grapes at our neighbors from our balcony, is now a man.

he is my brother. i haven’t seen him in five years.

i … continue to put the pieces of the puzzle together. too long. worn and torn from the defeating obstacles i wait for my return. for that confrontation with my father’s bully heart. for my mother’s cooking. for her lap, so i can lay my head. and for a re-discovery of my brother. and his future bride.

them…

Klodi

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