eight

her

three neat knocks

are heard on the door,

and i jump in my seat.

my mom opens the door,

even if i warned her not to,

and says hello to a smiling south.

he is handsome;

well cleaned up.

the shirt he wears

embraces his upper body.

"hi, ma'am. is rosemary here?"

"yeah, she is! who might you be?"

"i'm south lee, miss. i'm taking your daughter out."

"on a date?"

"on a frientervention. it's a friend intervention."

"and why should i trust you with her?"

he gives her a big smile;

"because i care about her.

she matters a lot to me and my

main mission right now is to

make her happy."

his smile widens

when he sees me,

i wave goodbye to

my mother and

shut the door.

"lookin' great," he says.

"thanks."

he opens the car door.

"did ya get dressed up for me?"

"drive, south. just drive."

-

him

i stop in front of

the art gallery i

want to show her;

because there's a piece

i need her to see.

"what's this?" she asks.

"just wait, okay? this is

part #1 of this whole thing."

"okay."

i grab her hand and rush

inside, knowing exactly

where the painting is.

i stop in front of it,

she doesn't let go of my hand.

it is a parallel painting

between a sunset and

a sunrise, the way they

are so uniquely different

from each other.

my concentration is

on her hand in mine,

but i try to say the few words

i've practiced for this painting.

"rosemary, in a sunset,

it's like the way someone

dips into sadness. the sun

allows the moon to arrive.

but even if there's darkness

in night, there is a light shining.

in a sunrise, though,

it is the moon kissing

the earth goodbye, because

the sun will take care of it.

even in the day, you can see

the moon. but you only notice

its beauty at night."

her eyes stay on the

painting, captivated by

its simplistic beauty.

she reminds me of an

art piece herself; made

to be loved and understood.

"my point is, no matter

if you're in the deepest pits

of the night or the striking

moments of the day; there

is light. and if there is light,

you can know that you're

not alone. and that you'll

be okay. because someone

cares about you and they

always will."

"that made zero sense,"

she says, and squeezes my

hand, and lets go. "but i get it."

"let's go," i say. "time for the next step."

"you know," she walks with me. "you make

zero sense. but i make less than zero sense."

"i know. you're a mess in your

own way and i'm a mess in mine,

but two messes together make

the best kind of mess."

-

my babies