The moment I touched your hair for the first time in the music room, I remember how my heart skipped beats. The softness of each strand is still clearly felt between my fingers. What kind of gentleness it was — I don’t know, because I am invulnerable to punches and slaps but touching a part of you has weakened my joints. I didn’t know what love was until we looked straight into each other’s eyes with only sighs within. The silence between us every time you chose to say nothing while seeing me at school and pretending as if we do not know each other is loud, but our hearts understand. If it isn’t love, how would you define that?
Every morning, I wake up with either new hope or new bruises fulfilling all over me. But you know, a saying says there’s even a speck of light in darkness, and so does it. My father came home and he was full of rage last night, yet I haven’t learned all the flower’s names to introduce to you, so I may have found another reason to wake, because I have to see you. And you saw me. When all this time I thought I am so pathetically invisible for love. I am not mad when they locked me in the bathroom or ruined my paper with colors because it didn’t bother me any longer except you who is not embarrassed to be teased for talking to me. The cold of the bathroom floor where I had to spend the night because father left me there doesn’t fear me anymore, for being unnoticed by you would do. Because the world has too much closed their eyes upon me, but you don’t.
I glimpse happiness right in front of my eyes during that one afternoon spent riding bicycles with you. They say happiness is something anyone can have, and I guess it was destined to me too because my despair over it has faded away since you fought your own battles when you saw kids in class bothered me. It is so clear and close, I almost had it.
Minato, I am no longer in dread. The madness is not frightening anymore since you. My tummy is full only with a slice of bread we eat together with pineapple jam on it. I am now gentle only with the place I used to visit to hide myself from the world and it is getting known by you, and you also didn’t hesitate to redecorate it with me so it feels much brighter and safer. We are our own drivers for this empty old train that someday, I hope it will bring us somewhere in the world where kindness and love are everywhere in the air and we would be more acceptable in it.
I don’t need to wait to get better for mom to come back because I was never sick and this pig’s brain wasn’t the one to tell that I am different. She will come back when she wants, and I will still love her even if she doesn’t. I have no regrets making a mess in a place that made my father happy because I did what these dark red bruises said, and I’ve told you, I’m not afraid anymore. Minato, love consumes me now and I am so full of it. I have nothing but love to pour upon you so that there’s no place on this universe you’d go except you’ll feel my love in it.
The dark tunnel wasn’t our nightmare, and we come out of it not only with mud covering our faces but with hearts that are now free to venture further into the world. Here you see the sharp weeds are no longer scary — let them be, let their edges pierce our skin as long as the earth is wise enough to be strong and let us run freely on it. We will run as far as we can with hands linked together and a light feeling for all the will. We are not different; we are the same. We don’t get better; we never get sick. We are normal. The world just needs to be a little kinder to us, and if it isn’t, we’ll create our own sanctuary where we will be the kindest — maybe in the wilderness bordered by a gate or in a train carriage that would be a total dark at night. It’s okay. You’re home, and we’re together.
