[snowlight] - snail's house

    Upon waking up, Momo notices two things. One, she’s alone, and two, it’s snowing. It’s cold, even more so, because under the thick quilt, she is bare. Through the gaps in the blinds, if she squints in just the right way, she swears she can see the sunken snow where Mina left traces of her departure.

    (But then again, if she dreams hard enough, she swears she can feel Mina’s warmth wrapped around her, whispering words that paint pictures of love.)

    She was sober, but last night was a blur. An expressionless Mina, knocking at her door in the dark hours of the morning, with kisses that begged for something Momo still can’t quite figure out.
“I’m leaving,” Mina whispers breathily. Her face still gives nothing away, but her eyes look for something in Momo’s.
Momo nods, “I know.”
The conversation is left like that. There hasn’t been much left to say, these days.

    She doesn’t cry. They both saw it coming. Other than the gnawing emptiness, everything feels the same. Like any other day, she thinks about Mina constantly. Except, this time, she thinks about if things could have been different. Months ago this may have been unfathomable. But in the recent weeks, maybe in the last two months even, it’s like they were just waiting for this to happen. Well, Momo’s not sure about herself, but she knew Mina was. For someone who never showed anything on her face, she wore everything on her sleeve. In any case, it was just a matter of time. It seems that yesterday was the day then. It’s over now, as if it hadn’t been over for weeks prior. 

    She tears the sheets off her bed, pulls off the pillowcases. Dumping them in a heap at her feet, she looks at them. Mina hadn’t slept in her bed for a long time until last night, but she knows they’ll still smell like her. Maybe she’ll wash them. She leaves the pile there for now, and washes her face, brushes her hair, then her teeth. When she’s dressed, she stares at the pile again, and decides. Maybe she’ll just throw them away. They were getting old anyway, and she never really liked the grid pattern on it anyways. That was always more Mina’s thing. 

    The layer of snow on the ground is a little thicker when she dumps the old sheets and pillowcases into the big green bin. She shoves her hands into her pockets and looks up at the white sky. A plane flies past. She sighs. Maybe that’s Mina (it’s not. She knows that Mina’s flight isn’t until later). The sun lights up the falling snowflakes and she wonders if Mina is thinking of her too.

    She’s never been out this early on a winter’s morning. It’s lonely. She finds herself walking aimless down the row of houses on her street, then the row of houses on the next street. She feels a little guilty, somehow, like she shouldn’t be relieved that she and Mina finally ended things. She loved Mina, she really did, but something about their relationship died and things just weren’t working out anymore. Well, it was for the best anyway. There was no point in trying to keep the dying alive. 

    A couple of streets later and Momo find herself in the local park. Things are quieter now than they usually were in the summer, but there are still people out, palms outstretched, catching snowflakes in their hands. There’s the bench she and Mina sat on after their first date, where they had their first kiss (it was awkward, but Mina was cute and Momo was in love). Momo catches herself smiling. For a moment she wants to chide herself for doing so, but she doesn’t. It can’t hurt to reminisce, she just wants to remember the happiness. The memory feels like such a long time ago. She wonders how many other people had their first kisses here. Maybe she’ll find someone else and maybe she’ll kiss them here after they go on their first date. Maybe she’ll find someone else and they’ll be nothing like Mina, not shy and reserved, maybe they’ll be loud and annoying but adorable at the same time. Maybe. Maybe not.

    Maybe opens up a whole new world of possibilities, Momo realises. Snow continues to fall, melting on hair and she feels a little damp. As she walks back home she thinks about all the maybes. Maybe she and Mina would have been happier in some alternate timeline. Maybe she could have done better when they were still together. Maybe Mina could have done better when they were still together. Maybe. She throws her arms up in the air and stretches, feeling the tension in her shoulders dissipating into the cold air. Oh well. Mina always told Momo that thinking too hard didn’t suit her. Maybe she was right. Now’s she’s overthinking and it’s tiring. With a shake of her head she clears her mind. Maybe for now she’ll live like the carefree person everyone makes her out to be.
“Maybe,” she says out loud.
She smiles. With that word she feels like she can be anything. It’s a little confronting, how big the possibilities are compared to her, but whatever, there’s no time for rearranging her life through tears, no time to live in the past. And maybe she’ll do better. 

_____________________________
god idk
surprise anti-mimo!!!
is emo mimo
memo
who am i
honestly i dont like this but w/e its a learning experience!!!!