Bonded, by Dominique Marks

Dear O,

I hope you’re well. Hope the family’s well also. I think of you often.. more so because of the uncertainty these days bring. Sometimes I’m happy.. sad.. mad or horny. But I’m hurt. Not because things ended but your denial of it all. I hate that I let you in. It’s so hard for me to do that and I often feel regret because I knew better. I understand that one experience— is just that an experience. When you looked at me— I smiled because deep down I knew. A moment. A season.. deep within. But in knowing, I’m still so traumatised that I don’t know how to yell. I’m trying though, learning.

~ dmo