Pinocchio  February 7; 1940

on monday i stared at my white walls until they began to colour

on tuesday i wrote a letter

hi mum, it's me again.

remember when we used to touch each others nose when we thought the other one told a lie?
it always made me laugh. i remember you putting your hands in front of your mouth when you smiled back at me, hiding your crooked teeth. that was probably the first moment i remember you making yourself smaller to fit the crowd.

my therapist came to my house because i couldn't get out again. i told her about how i always just wanted to make you proud mom, that's all i wanted. i want to be something that matters. i want someone to love me like you loved my father. the kind of love that makes you want to rip out your heart when it ends.
i'm glad you ripped out his. not glad you ripped out mine, too.

tao

on wednesday i got out of my house and i walked through the neighbourhood and i could hear children playing and laughter and birds singing and i felt bliss i felt happiness i felt phenomenal and i

on thursday i told myself it is okay to be sad

but on friday i knew i couldn't lie to myself

on saturday i watched the 101 dalmatians and dumbo

and on sunday i went for a walk and came across a new shop down mountain abbey road

i didn't go inside,  but through the what seemed like dusty glass i recognised a vintage print of pinocchio, hanging in the corner
it was hanging on by an old yellow thread that was far too weak to hold the frame
the boy behind the counter did not seem to notice

tomorrow i'm going to have the courage to point it out to him, i thought as i held my breath for just two seconds longer than i normally did, taking a last look at the man as i turned around and started walking away
i felt an uncomfortable shiver, as if someone was watching me as i took three steps to the right to avoid a passerby
i later found out his eyes were glued to his phone screen the entire time, not noticing, or not caring, to look at the girl with the sad eyes, on the other side of the tinted glass

⌘
it's starting :)