My sweet, sweet Aru.
I came to Tokyo for 6 days without you. You are about 18 months.
I tell myself it’s good for you and it’s good for me. But really, I just want to do it.
Travelling without you has made me appreciate every little detail of convenience my life has ever had to offer prior to you.
But oh the guilt.
Oh the mixed feelings.
I cried a bucket. And then a little less everyday after.
And a part of me wondered, or feared rather, just how joyful and peaceful it was without you.
You saw me on FaceTime and you cried. And all I wanted to do was to fast track the time it would take me to get back to you.
I guess that’s the thing about marriage, sisterhood and motherhood and family.
It’s not that we can’t live without each other.
It’s simply that we choose not to.
And time and time again, life and love stand by us. Simply to remind us that the delights in being together are worth any other delight than money, solidarity or even a peace of mind could offer.
We are the tears, the migraines, the dramas, the late nights, the vomiting, the chicken broth, the fights, the egos, the telenovelas, the hugs at night and the love. The love is enough. More than enough.
I forgot that.