I’ve had this talk with my best friend before.

A talk of how sometimes you find yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror.

“God, I need some sleep.”, you’d say.

“I’m so over these bags. Why am I even up this late.”, you’d complain.

A minute or so passes of you just staring at the details of your face, the details that separate you from others.

Another minute goes by and suddenly, you’re not staring at yourself anymore.

You realize.

You realize that God created this vast world.

You realize that it’s massive, almost endless.

You realize that the universe has no beginning and no end.

You realize that you’re a part of this miracle.

And suddenly you’re small problems seem pathetic.

And you smile at how you’re blessed to witness this fantasy that is life.

“Woah, I seriously took this for granted.”

I see my mother's eyes staring back at me, filled with curiosity and passion.

I see my father's sharp nose pointing at the sky; knowledgeable and confident.

I see my grandmother's smile. Beautiful words always escape her tongue.

I see my grandfather's unruly hair. So big. So overpowering. It almost has a personality of its own.

I see my ancestors on the color of my skin. Similar to the Saharan Desert.

I see a girl at a loss of how her anatomy, her body, her being is greater than just a reflection on the mirror.

You're not just any girl dear.

You are the generations before you.

You represent nations, cultures, traditions.

Wear yourself proudly.

Look at yourself proudly.

You're the not the only person that mirror is reflecting.

You waited, she didn't show up.

Is it lost love?

Is it disinterest?

You overcame, she showed up.

It is love.

She's still interested.

There's a crowd of hundreds.

You can't hear yourself think.

You can't hear yourself breathe.

It's nice.

It's nice because in this chaos, there's silence.

And in this silence, there's comfort.

And in comfort, there's you.

He's ever-changing, a shape-shifter.

He's a kaleidoscope of joy.

He's a charmer.

You're captivated.

You're infatuated.

He's invisible, a figment of you're imagination.

He's not important.

He's using you.

You're confused.

You're torn.

There is no he.

You're in love with a ghost.

You're in love with No One.

She's no longer a daisy

Plucked from the stem.

She's no longer a daisy

Living to please men.

She's the vast lands of trees

Dancing into oblivion.

She's an entire forest

Growing from within.

I wait for you by my window, wait for my ears to embrace the roar of your arrival. The roar of that golden car I've always hated. God, it was so bright and flashy.

I still wait for you by my window but it's a different window. It's a different roar. It's a different car.

What I'd do to sit in the passenger's seat for one last time.

What I'd do to truly cherish every moment, every song played by the radio station, every street we used to pass.

What I'd do for you to tell me to take care of myself as you drop me to the cold store.

"I won't be long.", I used to say.

But it's been long.

I'm still waiting.

I'll always wait.