For a dear friend of mine who taught me emotions and tears are not weakness.
I sat there staring into the distance.
Thoughts and feelings that I had bottled up began to drip and collect, turning into a puddle of thoughts and feelings that I couldn’t quite grasp.
Who is this person who stares back at me?
Do I know her face anymore?
Her laugh has changed, and the innocence that I once saw has left her eyes. She no longer looks like the little girl I once knew, grasping at everything without fear.
But she still crinkles her nose the same.
Her tears still collect and puddle on her lip the same, and her cries still sound the same.
Her innocence hasn’t left completely, the little girl hasn’t gone forever.
I still see her. Not in the puddle, or the reflection, but I feel her in the warmth of the summer sun and the coolness of the rain.
I meet her in the wind and the smell of daisies carried with the spring breeze.
I will find her in pages of a journal, the melody of a song.
She is not gone, nor forgotten. She is simply a fragment of who I am now, and when she meets the light, she envelopes everything.
I see her.