maybe, someday

14 // content

brooklyn

walking into your parents' house

was as if nothing changed within

the last year and a half.

your mothers' kitchen still lingered

with the smell of garlic upon entering

the hallway while the sound of the

grandfather clock ticked away

second by second.

your mom acted as if we never parted

nor walked out of each other's life

months ago; picking up the pieces

where we both left off.

it was a bitter sweet feeling to be

beside your mom in the kitchen

while listening to her talk on and on

about new recipes she discovered on

food network and books she recently

purchased from the old bookstore downtown.

your mom didn't think anything of it,

and neither did you when she handed me

the crystal wine glass. i counted the stars,

mentally whispering a thank you that you

both didn't notice my hesitation when bringing

the glass to my lips; taking the first sip of

alcohol i ever consumed since you walked the

other way.

i subtly tried to sneak glances your way

but every time i did so you'd be there to catch

me, staring with a smile upon your lips,

hidden by the beer bottle in front of them.

the more your mom chatted away about your

father, sister, and nieces, the more i felt myself

falling.

through our relationship your mom adopted

me along the way, becoming the one figure i

never truly was blessed with; filling the mother role,

i desperately sought for.

it was breathtaking to stand by her side once more

and i desperately clung to the moment.

the more i cut up veggies and stole glances your

way, the more wine i sipped, coming to terms

with what i missed most and desperately tried to

forget; what it was like to be part of your family,

but mostly what it was like to be yours.