Of the handful of things I hold sacred, my family’s history is one I haven’t articulated comfortably for years, until 2016.
Tonight over a tiny selection of dim sum, I shared with P about the missing pieces of my life she hadn’t known about. I’ve been friends with P since my days as a rebellious teenager (yes, I was one of those) and this year would check 14 years of friendship. She was surprised and sad by the details I was spitting out, one revelation more headache-inducing than the next.
Those years of my life were tough. They were unspeakable almost. But I’m older now… The stories are now archives to be shared, and not secrets too painful to talk about.
Let me photograph you in this light
In case this is the last time
That we might be exactly like we were before we realized
We were sad of getting old, it made us restless
It was just like a movie, it was just like a song
When we were young