there are reasons to kiss you, hidden in the curve of your smile.
you laugh and it’s beautiful, something giddy in my sun-warmed cheeks. my hands twitch at my sides, and i wonder.
there’s a Filipino tradition, one i’ve heard of but never really seen.
harana, my relatives call it. men serenading women under the cover of night, guitar in hand and illuminated by the moon. they repeat that, over and over. only at night, my lola says. it’s too hot, too bright during the day.
i mouth the words: harana, serenade. i think about standing outside your window, lips parted in song.
i wonder if i should kiss you. soft lips on mine, your back pressed against a wall. shadows cradling us like curtains. you say something, then, and i find i can’t quite meet your eyes.
it’s strange, isn’t it, how i find more solace in the dark.
(too hot, too bright, too exposed in the day.)
we talk, but i don’t remember what about. you grin like the sun, and like the tide the words well in my throat, pushing, pushing…
hey, what if…
i look down at the ground. my mouth stays shut.
the sky is growing darker, pinks turning into purples turning into blues. it’s not quiet, but sitting in this corner, i can almost pretend.
my thoughts drift. i think about learning the guitar.
you don’t sing much, but neither do i.
that’s okay, i think, gaze on the horizon. on the setting sun. it doesn’t have to be good. it just has to be you.
your hair sways in the wind, the skin of your neck exposed. a part of me wonders how you’d react, then, if i kissed that spot— a giggle, a shocked gasp?
i tear my eyes away, nails digging into the meat of my palm.
i wish, i think to myself, that this came easier to me.
our friends wave at us some distance away. the moment is broken, dusting ourselves off from the pavement.
we don’t kiss. a sigh unravels from my chest.
(under a blanket of stars, would i have been braver?)
i’d sing for you, is the thing. i’d sing for you. does it have to be profound? does it have to shake the earth, make flowers bloom from the grass?
i can only give you my voice, awkward and stilted and a little too soft.
i hope the moon answers my prayer. i hope she tells me it’s enough.
Good news! You aren’t required to make your hobbies and passions “marketable.” In fact, your crafts, hobbies, and passions don’t even need to be public if you so choose. You don’t have to spend all of your energy becoming perfect if you aren’t enjoying the process. You are not a product, you are a person, a creative, and your work also does not need to be a product.
You are not lacking. You are not less than. You are a whole human being with unmeasurable worth, who deserves love, respect and other good things. You are enough today, tomorrow and always. Always have been, always will be. And I really need you to hold that truth to your heart and keep it there as an ever burning flame. 🌸
