( 二十三 ) nebula

                                    

                                          
nebula.







YESTERDAY HAD PROVIDED YOU WITH A CATHARSIS. 
The willingness in itself to release the emotions associated with negativity had proven to serve as a catalyst for change—a change within the atmosphere surrounding your home, and a change within your dynamic as a family.
It was as if, suddenly, everything was clearer and better. The paint on the walls seem to be more vibrant despite it not having been repainted in years. The spoon clinking against tea cups that used to irk you was a sound that you embraced as you greeted the early morning with your waking figure. The couch in your living room that you haven't sat on for who knows how long seemed to be more inviting. 
Nothing concrete changed, really. Just the fact that the place you resided in was once a house, it had now turned into a home.
If you were once a flower that drowned underneath the Sun's heated rays, the water's raging waves, and the overbearing bearing soil; now, you are free, flowing with the wind and alive today.
You breathe in the air seeping through your home's windows that were open for once and you can smell the aroma of the leaves from the trees mixing with the chamomile tea. The whilstling of the kettle and tea cups hitting the tiled kitchen area reminds you of when you were younger, and when everything in the house seemed to be more functional.
"I already called the school today and told them that you wouldn't be attending today's class." Your mother says.
She stands by the kitchen island, hair tied up neatly to a bun and an apron tied around her waist. You notice the lines underneath her eyes are still there, but strangely, as an easy smile lays on her lips, you find that it doesn't appear to be out of place. It's not the same as when her brows are furrowed over, hands trembling, and hair frazzled as she hovered around you constantly. Instead, she stands straight, moving carefully yet with purpose as she focuses on heating up the water.
"Okay." You nod, sitting on the couch. 
You turn towards the television to watch the drama show that your mother appeared to like as she's watched it several times. Surprisingly, it's not as dramatic as you thought. The lines that the actors uttered were realistic enough that you could relate with it, not to mention it's subtle humor layered underneath the interactions between characters.
A few minutes later, the sofa dips down and your mother joins you in watching the televions. She hands you a cup of tea and you accept it with a silent 'thanks'.
"This show's surprisingly good, Mom."
She raises her brow before giggling. "Surprisingly? You doubt my taste, (First Name)."
"Kind of. Yeah, I do." You shrug. "Your music taste is kinda outdated, though. Don't really like it. I'm kinda sick of hearing some woman sing the name 'Jolene' repeatedly."
"That's because I'm old, (First Name). And don't disrespect Dolly Parton like that." She chides, taking a sip from her tea. She turns back to you a minute later. "So, what do you say we go out later? We haven't gone out together in a while."
"Sure."













IT WAS NICE OUT TODAY.