There's this Turkish-pudding kind of dessert that mom always used to make at least once a month. We used to put them into small cups and make shapes with cookie cutters and cinnamon. I'd help mom put the glasses in the freezer and play with my toys while waiting to eat it.
Yesterday I did the same dessert. All by myself. Mom was at home but she scrolled through Facebook instead of helping. I put it into a huge glass tray instead of small cups and did some shapes with cinnamon like I used to.
My favorite was the bear and the duck. I couldn't find the duck so I made two bears with a few stars and hearts.
I told mom I can't eat it right now because it's too late at night and she was kinda sad. I waited for her to eat before I go to bed because I wanted to see her reaction. She loved it.
I'm eating the dessert right now. We used to eat it while watching tv and I still remember the feeling of the cold cup in my hands. I'd try to warm my hands after I eat and...
I... just don't know.
The dessert just feels cold.
Not just the dessert, my heart feels cold too.
Mom changed. At least in my eyes.
And I'm tired because I miss her, no, I miss my old perception of her.
I miss not to be scared of her. I miss the kind, warm, loving side of her.
The 6 years old inside my heart is missing her and there's nothing I can do.
I miss the warmth.
We're seperated like the bears. We're on the same dessert but so so far away from each other.
And I feel cold.
