Mandy is just your average girl living the big life: college;
as mundane as college life is, she acknowledges that not everyone can afford a higher education. in that way she knows that she’s very blessed. but on a particular september where the nights get a little colder, only leaving little remnants of the summer air that will soon condense into frost, instead of doing her readings on Post-Mao films, she thought about fondness.
however it may be applicable to other people’s lives, her heart seems to always be under renovation. of the 1587902347582019876456 people who lives in there, one has conned her, one verbally abused her, one broke her heart… but as she forgives and moves on, they stayed. her heart wasn’t a temporary resident. people come and go, and even for some, they go and never come back. Mandy hasn’t seen them in a while, maybe even in forever, but the ghost of their mind and touches remained in her like wisp of whispers.
it strikes Mandy as a bit weird, as she isn’t exactly a believer of second chances. she is careful of accepting back the people who have hurt her in the past into her present life, even though in her heart she housed every single one of them. Mandy is imperfect in that way, you know. is this the effect of ‘love is blind’? any kind of love at all: friendship love, platonic love, parental love, filial love, romantic love… maybe once a blind person forever a blind person. maybe there is no cure to this blind madness. maybe. but (also) just maybe, this is room for change. a space to heal. maybe once in a while, in dusty rooms of people who have hurt her too much for her to forget, Mandy sweeps the floor and tell herself that her hatred does not divide oceans and her wounds would heal.
maybe fondness is to have salvation. she will always have room for people who have touched her heart regardless of the various ways that they did it; with a knife, with chopsticks, or with a pinky. everyone has a place to stay.