A rose tea

I Think Some Girls Learn Sadness Too Elegantly #

There’s a specific kind of girl who learns how to hide unhappiness so well it almost becomes style. You know the type.

Perfect hair.
Controlled voice.
Beautiful posture.
Eyes permanently tired in expensive ways.

Sometimes I think girls are trained very young to transform sadness into aesthetics before anyone notices damage. Today one girl in class looked seconds away from emotional collapse and still managed to discuss lip gloss calmly during lunch. Incredible species. Mam says elegance means “never making other people uncomfortable with your suffering,” which sounds sophisticated until you think about it for more than four seconds. I understand why women become controlled though. The world studies girls constantly.

Too loud.
Too emotional.
Too quiet.
Too cold.
Too much makeup.
Not enough.
Too intelligent.
Too visible.

I hate all of that.

After school I came home feeling strangely heavy for no dramatic reason. February light in M. always looks tired somehow. Pale buildings. Grey skies. Everybody walking quickly like they’re emotionally late. Mam was working near the windows wearing Allure instead of Angel for once, and the apartment smelled softer than usual. I almost told her I was sad today. Instead I asked if she wanted tea. This family communicates emotionally through beverages.

ROSE TEA.
Remember me,
Eclipse