Epilogue

I perfected the art of pretending I’m fine when in fact, I’m bleeding inside. I perfected the art of not showing that I’m greatly affected by all the things that happened to me. I perfected the art of not showing too much emotion but I still can’t keep the tears rolling down my face while staring at the black dress Yuan put on in my closet last night.

Someone knocked on my door but I’m too tired to answer. I smell jasmine filling the air and I slowly look at my mom who’s already in her black dress. Her hair is slightly curled in the end, the small black hat covers half of her head.

“Are you okay?” she asked, squeezing my hands lightly.

How am I supposed to be fine when the only person I want is not here with me right now?

“You think everyone’s going to move on, Mom?” I asked, hoping she has all the answers to my question.

“Everything will soon be alright, honey. Time will heal all wounds.” She pulled me for a hug and I