someday, i will buy every colour of paint in the craft store; cyan, sienna, mauve, even magenta. i will have a drawer full of paint brushes and a shelf full of colours. i will clean my room inch by inch; desk, cupboards, drawers, bed. someday, i will be able to throw out gift wrappers and apology letters; old insignificant flowers, stupid bills made into paper hearts.
someday, looking back won’t hurt as much. making tea will not bring me to tears, and breathing will be just breathing, not 5 things I can see 4 things I can touch. someday, i will miss this grief.