Do you still remember our tea parties? Oh, how you liked to name a simple encounter as a “party”, acting as if we were the most important couple in the whole world; just to show off our little happiness to your non-existing friends.
You would pilfer your mother's favourite tea set, I would sneak into our kitchen in the middle of the night, my heart pounding as fast as a Chevrolet.. To tell you the truth; I wasn't always this carefree. At the age of 6, I was afraid; afraid of the dark hole next to our fridge, afraid of getting caught by my mother, afraid of being punished, afraid of every single sound coming from our fragile windows... Oh yes, I was afraid of many things.
Shall I reveal one more secret? I lied. I never once thought of our game as a girlish thing, never hated it like I claimed to. Secretly, you were the reason why on each Friday, I still did go in that room, my hands trembling like a feather in air, my teeth chattering as rhythmic as the church choir. It had felt sweeter than fortune bubble gum and more breathtaking than mortal combat.
Can you believe, you are long gone but I'm still sitting on the same spot, holding onto a brand new tea cup.
Then I think, it's you who I shall blame for never being able to enjoy an actual tea, funnily, only the taste of air can satisfy me.
Once again, just like you wished, I setted the date on 18th January and wore my sweater that my mum had knitted for me. Tea is ready, you shall come now.
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