21

you're 21, and for the longest time ever, your mom hugs you tight like she'll never let you go, the absence of hugs throughout all these years culminating in that very one and suddenly, you're her lil' princess of 9 again.

you're 21, and a bomb hits upon you and you realize why she brought you up this way to be that self-sufficient and independent soul you've grown to become, and in your very heart of hearts you make promises to yourself to always protect her, to never leave her nor hurt her, to be that bright future she's always envisioned you to be, but you never could quite mutter it out tangibly because this bird has flown away and all you can do is to pray that the disappointment that accompany it would not kill.

you're 21, with a heart of 9 that learns its very first notions of self-sacrificial familial love, and the burdens of a 41.