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Like every divorced couple, we were transitioning into a platonic relationship as friends full of understanding. My former husband seems entirely decided to give life a fresh try. He is thinking of another girl. He has all his plans laid out. I am listening patiently and often after the call, finding myself sobbing for a reason unknown. I never quite understood him. But I was thinking about something else. Each time I see you on my phone screen, I miss you tremendously. I wait for you, as the yellowed grass under the brick wait for the forgotten sunlight. I was waiting for the rules to follow. When To call, when to talk. You were giggling, and you were moving around with the phone camera to show me all that happened recently. You had wiggling teeth; four of them fell Recently. You were showing those holes by opening your mouth wide. You have a face resembling me. You have my eyes. Your phone camera focused on your sleeping sister. I saw her. I was kissing your eyes, and I loved you when you were showing me the piled-up snacks you will be taking on the road trip. The road trip will originate in Allen, Texas, and end in Edinburg, Texas. It will take almost ten hours to drive from there to here—six more days to go. You were asking me about the cat. You were asking me if I saw that cat or not. I told you that I did not. You were giggling again. You said to me that your father advised you could have a cat when you get married. I was listening to you. You have a face with my eyes, my nose, and my eyelashes. I could still remember that exact moment when you decided to come out from me. It was a normal birth after a C-section. I did everything I could to have that. Your sister was a breech baby. The doctor suggested a method called version, but I was afraid for her safety. And C-section was the final decision. A painless birth with a lot of postpartum complications. I was tired. And I saw the face of your sister, for the first time. She was hungry—a crying baby in hunger. Her little face was close to me, close to my breast. And I gradually became a mother. You decided to play it safe; without any complication, I did not have any trouble with you. You were a gentle, calm baby. You never had sleepless nights bothering me too much. But something was breaking me apart, inside. The loss of my father, my health issues, everything was tearing me apart. And everything else was falling apart too. Life has a meandering trail to follow—a continuous course. Sometimes it is hard to decipher what is going on. Yet it never halts the progression; life moves on with its own pace. Each morning brings that news in good faith, in prayer, in humility, and sublimation. Sometimes that is all that is left. A hope beyond words. A touch of love with a healing hand. A cause to live life, a genuine one. We ended the conversation. Before completing the call, you hugged the phone tight as if you were hugging me there—six more days to go. And I felt that I had waited almost longer than a lifetime to see both of you. Both of you have bright eyes, beautiful eyes. You have a face resembling me. You have my eyes.
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