From someplace far away, the wind carries the sound of her laughter to me. It is fresh; like the sound of waves crashing on a tumultuous night. It’s childish: like a naughty kid who’s hidden all the sweets in her mouth. It’s beautiful and it reminds me of a waterfall, carving its way through rough terrain, to ultimately fall in freedom; like happiness bursting through a dark cave. Some nights, it breaks me down. Others, it gets me through. I believe in magic. I believe in fairies. And she’s the reason I believe in them. Nothing I’ve ever done or had done in the past could tantamount to her presence in my life. Yet here she is; her shadow looming over like a barrier, a shield to protect me from all the badness there exists.
The way she smells, the way she her eyes scan my face for a give away, the way her hand still feels bigger in mine, the way pearls fall out from her eyes when she cries, the way her eyebrows resemble the crescent moon when she gets angry, the way her hands produce magical, sparkly trails when she talks excitedly; everything about her is poetic and symmetrical. Everything is magical. She leaves my bedside and leaves fairy dust behind. I know in every moment, that she is my everything. She is my universe, my life, my love, my heart, the essence in me, my being. As a person, she is my best friend, my mentor, my support system, my roots. She is the sole reason of my existence. She is my God, my religion, my faith, my belief, my voice, my breath. She runs in my blood, in my tears and in everything I am.
She, is more than anything in the galaxies. She, is my mum.