ORANGE PEEL TEA AND OTHER TYPES OF KINDNESS (october diary entry)

I always look like someone’s daughter, someone’s friend, someone’s niece. I never look like someone’s wife for my hands never match the ones that are supposed to hold me. I always have too many knuckles, too little fingers and they can’t clench into a fist properly so whenever I have to strike, I caress instead. I pretend to be interesting so you can deliberately make me tea in the morning. It almost works too. You just bring me cold water for now but I don’t complain. I say ‘thank you’ and act as if I don’t want to kiss your thumb. I have this list of things I would like to confess which I keep in my closet under my pile of jackets and mouths (I once knew the pressure of their kisses), and I sometimes want to say you look like my father when you cry quietly and tell me you want two children in your wooden home. And I sometimes want to say my skin crinkles when you get angry and it reminds me of my grandfather scolding me for looking up to the ceiling. But I keep quiet instead because I am ashamed. We were in the white room on the 2nd floor and I found God there. And I cried softly but you didn’t notice because your head was stuck in a painted window, and when you pulled your head out, dark blue on the tip of your nose and green covering your chin, you said ‘it’s time to go’ and lights flickered. Am I a lotus eater? What would you name our children, anyway? I don’t care for white picket fences, I just want to hold 3 year old me in my parents’ yard. If this happens, I promise I won’t flee as I planned. Reasons to stay are reasons to sleep, and reasons to sleep are reasons to dream, and reasons to dream are reasons to stitch my teeth back to my gums and promise I will never bite again. You should know that they lie. Kindness never did me wrong as they said and frankly, being kind to you is like washing my hands of sticky clementine juice, it is the easiest thing in the world. I promise I will stay on my side of the couch, I will stop using your towel, I will refrain from wanting to hold you. I won’t yell, or spit, or scratch. I will peel you oranges. For this shall never sting as bad as premeditated violence.