Valentine likes chocolate. Almond milk hot chocolate, chocolate cakes, chocolate fountains, chocolate ganache, chocolate cookies, chocolate truffles, chocolate bar, chocolate ice cream, chocolate coloured hair, chocolate lip cream, chocolate coloured shoes, chocolate smells, even her favourite film is Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the 1971 version.
So she buys herself a bar of chocolate and spend 4 hours watching the movies, just because she wants to, because she knows she can, and she doesn't have anyone else to spend valentine's day with but herself.
Valentine knows she is not pretty. She knows she doesn't have the colour people adore, not the colour of her hair, nor her eyes, her lips, or her skin. Back then she didn't spend her money on lipsticks because her lips were always purple and the back of her hands were always dark. Her eyes were blue and her arse was almost always red. It came from her dad's loving hands or her mum's caring fingers.
Mum said she was a mistake. When his boyfriend touched her on the sacred place and he ran away right after. Poor littl girl her mum was, she trusted him a little too much than she trusted herself. And then she got married, with someone whose name she had never heard before or the one Valentine called 'dad'. But he wasn't real. He now is not her dad and the bond they have is not even thicker than water. She has never been his blood, never is, and never will be. Valentine is stranger to him and strangers die everyday, he thinks.
'Valentine dear, just because your parents conceived you on Valentine's day doesn't mean you have to follow their step' she said to herself. She knows it well. So on Valentine's day after getting her hair cut and dyed, after a bar of chocolate, and 4 hours of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, she walks away, liberating herself and never looks back.
Off she goes, heading to the future, sailing the liberation.
Collab with Celina about 'Love'
No comments:
Post a Comment