Growing up is a pain, and it is what it is
Okay, It's not the end of the world
I step onto the lantern‑lit sand in a flutter of indigo and amethyst, the unfamiliar dress cinching at my waist before spilling in gentle ripples around my thighs. A month ago I would have fussed over every hem; tonight I smooth the skirt only once, shoulders squaring with newfound ease.Okay, It's not the end of the world
Remi and Ronin are impossible to miss beneath the garlands. I offer each a quick, earnest smile—first a brief squeeze of Remi’s forearm, then a respectful dip of my head to Ronin—before the words tumble out. “Congratulations—ten years looks wonderful on you both.” I know they’ll be swept up by old friends soon, so I leave it at that and turn away, skirts whispering over my knees.
I rush toward Flora, a bright constellation of lavender and jasmine. A breathless laugh escapes as I reach her, my hands finding hers in a delighted squeeze. “I’m so glad to see you. You look like dawn decided to throw a party.”
The next heartbeat blazes gold. Remi strikes the match, and Mort’s Lantern flares; my words fade as I pivot back toward the light. Its warm pulse paints my face with hope and aching anticipation. Somewhere beyond the veil of dusk, I picture the familiar silhouette of my grandmother stepping through.
I hold my breath—waiting, willing—in the hush between heartbeats, that my mother will show up for this too.
There's always light where it burns
Theea
