ask the butterflies

i am my mother’s daughter.

mother has this crazy habit of always doing the laundry even when we are off on a holiday (which isn’t really very often in the last 27 years). she would collect the clothes we wore for the day and washed them before going to bed. that is why when were finally back from the trip, there would be no pile of dirty laundry that smell. (she also got the habit from father of always bringing own towels and blankets- a habit i also practiced until i was in college).

so, when zsolt came back from a night dive, found me in the bathroom doing the laundry, and chuckled when he realized what i was doing, i looked at the soap-soaked shirts in horror. “oh my god.”

the fact that i always teased mother about that strange habit was not lost on me. it is a strange habit. you do not do laundry on a 5-day holiday. i never did. i always packed enough clothes for the entire duration of the trip, without having to repeat wearing any of them (which is very opposite zsolt’s habit of just bringing two shirts and a short for a two-week holiday). this trip is no exception.

and so, it was quite a shock to find myself doing something like that. not on the first holiday trip that would either break or make the relationship. it was like asking the guy on first date for his baby pictures. or baking a cake for the mum of the guy you have been seeing for barely a month.

“silly habit.” i murmured. “i couldn’t stand the smell of damp clothing.”

i saw him smiled, the wrinkled on the side of his eyes visible when he did so. “crazy girl.”

“was the night dive good? took some nice pictures?”

“ah-hhmmn…”

perhaps when it comes to transparency, it all boils down to the levels of comfort. there will always be layers of you that you only show to certain people and hide from the rest of the world. for some funny reason, i understood it more now. you cannot force transparency on people on the grounds of expressed adoration.

am i falling?

the butterflies know.

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