have a sip of tea - life at first smelly onion breath

have a pot of tea.

imagine sipping from a warm pot of tea.

when you take that first sip,

what type of tea did you imagine drinking?

is it light?

bitter?

sweet?

was the flavor,

a delicate blend of chamomile and honey?

soothing your senses with its gentle sweetness?

'cause in a world transformed by a pandemic,

a pot of tea became a sanctuary.

its warmth embraced us,

a refuge from realities.

throughout the pandemic,

our lives transformed in unpredictable ways.

in that tranquil moment,

dreams are woven into reality.

dreams intertwined with reality,

a tapestry woven with hope and hardship.

so did you dream a dream?

'cause we did.

ever wonder how one pandemic has changed all of us.

for the better or not,

it depend.

across digital landscapes,

crossing oceans.

we found solace in newfound friendships from corners of the world we'd never have explored otherwise.

new friendships blossomed,

transcending borders,

defying oceans.

oceans were crossed,

not just in miles but in experiences shared.

we navigated this uncharted territory,

how was yours like?

ours was wild.

our shared journey wild and untamed.

some said sometimes it takes ten years to get that one year that changes your life,

ours did.

let me tell you our story for CreateTogether.

and you can decide on what you think.

life at first smelly onion breath.

the master of the oyster shucker carefully opens each shell,

revealing what lies inside.

filling it up until onion is empty,

the onion,

with its many layer,

absorbs it all—

too much, until it slip.

onion has traveled these roads before,

but what it once found—no longer lives there anymore.

it’s dark,

it’s cold,

if onion’s hand is not the one it’s meant to hold.

maybe it’d be happier with someone else,

maybe loving is the reason they can’t love themselves.

before onion turns master of oyster shucker’s heart into a ghost town,

show onion everything they built—

so it can tear it all down.

tear it all down.

watch it crumble—

every brick, every vow, every sound.

it knows it’ll stay—

don’t tempt it.

but all this weight is getting heavy,

holding up what wasn’t meant to stand.

it turned this love into a wasteland.

it’s dark,

it’s cold,

if onion’s hand is not the one it’s meant to hold.

maybe it’d be happier with someone else,

maybe loving is the reason they can’t love themselves.

before onion turns master of the oyster shucker’s heart into a ghost town,

show onion everything they built—so it can tear it all down.

tear it all down!

tear it all down!

the streets are empty,

where love once lived—

it has faded away.

these fuzzy bubbles,

left here alone, afraid to say...

maybe it’d be happier with someone else.

ooh-oh-oh...

maybe it’d be happier with someone else,

maybe loving is the reason they can’t love themselves.

before it turns master of the oyster shucker s heart into a ghost town,

show onion everything they built—so it can tear it all down.

tear it all down!

tear it all down!

onion peels back layers, yet hides what it truly holds.

it sees the questions in master of oyster shucker’s eyes,

it knows what’s weighing on master of oyster shucker’s mind.

but onion is sure it knows its part,

because it will stand beside master of oyster shucker through the years.

it will only cry happy tears,

& though it’ll make mistakes,

it will never break master of oyster shucker ’s heart again.

master of the oyster shucker has endured a decade of love that only knew how to wound,

a decade of hands that held too tight,

of words that broke instead of built.

& yet—

it has passed.

the scars, the weight, the bubbles,

they do not own master of the oyster shucker anymore.

regardless of whether it will open itself again,

regardless of who may stand at its door,

master of the oyster shucker has passed through the fire—

& is still standing.

but onion remembers,

the apple state,

where paths first crossed.

the city pulses with a restless beat,

where dreams collide on every street.

from towering spires to greenery park,

a city alive, an endless maze.

cultures blend, stories told,

in the heart of the city,

bold and gold.

what began as an onion ring,

a laugh, a dare, a fleeting thing—

became something else.

it was just an onion ring shared between them,

their breath floating toward each other in the crisp evening air.

a warmth neither expected,

a pull neither could ignore.

who said a female warrior can’t woo a guy?

who said love must follow old rules?

in today’s world,

anything is possible—

if you’re brave enough to break the standards set for you.

but even warriors and lovers have their battles.

anger clouded their minds,

sharp words and curses thrown like knives,

cutting deeper than either intended.

then—

silence.

a storm passing, leaving only heavy breaths and a hollow room.

fingers twitch.

lips part.

it's at the tip of their tongues,

just at the tip—

but neither says it.

& now, they wonder…

have they both changed?

the years have shaped them, bent them, broken them, rebuilt them.

are they still the same people who once breathed the same air over an onion ring?

have they found more than they have given?

did they take too much and leave too little behind?

or did they build something neither realized until it was gone?

are they proud of where they are now?

when they look in the mirror,

do they see their sprout,

or just ghosts of who they used to be?

if they could say something to each other,

what would they want to say?

would it be regret, or gratitude?

would it be “i miss you,”

or “i hope you’re happy”?

would it be everything they held back on that night,

when the air was thick with silence,

& the words sat on the tip of their tongues?

on the way home, after a hurtful argument,

on an airplane,

master of the oyster shucker walks alone through the city at night.

even though it’s the same road they always walked home on together,

tonight, it’s cold.

every time they leave the station ticket gate,

the warmth that was supposed to be beside them disappears.

even the most ordinary, everyday scenery is entangled with bubbles.

it wishes onion had called master of the oyster shucker name at the end—

instead of just saying “goodbye.”

as laughter echoes in the streets,

as master of the oyster shucker looks to the night sky and whispers:

"her scars may be beautiful, but so are mine because they came from you. but don’t make promises or swear oaths you can’t keep, don't change."

onion swears,

by the moon and stars in the sky,

it will be there—

& it swears.

like the shadow by master of the oyster shucker’s side,

it will be there.

for better or worse,

till death do they part.

it’ll love master of oyster shucker with every beat of its heart.

& it swears.

it will build their dreams with these two hands.

they’ll hang some bubbles on the wall,

& when silver streaks their hair—

there won’t be a need to ask, "Do you still care?"

because time may turn the page,

but their love will not age at all.

onion swears.

for a while,

it was rough,

but lately,

onion’s been doing well,

better than the last four burning julys,

onion recalls.

it sees its family every month,

it found a gal its parents love.

master of the oyster shucker stays the night,

& onion thinks—maybe it has it all.

onion thanks God every day,

for the gal He sent its way.

but it knows—

what He gives, He can take away.

& onion holds master of the oyster shucker every night,

a feeling it wants to get used to.

but there’s no man as terrified

as the one who stands to lose it.

oh, onion hopes it doesn’t lose it.

mmm…

please,

stay.

onion wants it,

onion needs it—

oh god, don’t... take...

these beautiful things that it has got.

oh... ooh...

please,

stay.

onion wants it,

onion needs it—

oh god, don’t... take...

these beautiful things that it has got.

oh…ooh…

please…

don’t…

take…

onion found its mind,

it’s feeling sane.

it’s been a while,

but it’s finding its faith.

if everything is good and great,

why does onion sit and wait till it’s gone?

onion tells itself—

it has enough.

it has peace,

it has love,

but still,

it stays up at night thinking—

what if it loses it all?

please,

stay.

onion wants it,

onion needs it—

oh god,

don’t...

take...

these beautiful things that it has got.

a heart unheld is just a ghost town—

fading, waiting, aching to be known.

what good is a heart,

if it is not in the hands of one who knows how to cherish and treasure it?

it is a haunting question—

does a lonely heart still have value,

or is it just a lost soul, wandering in bubbles that never came to life?

a heart that is not held,

not cherished,

may still beat,

but it doesn't truly live.

it exists between the past and the future,

trapped in things that were never said,

in feelings that were never reciprocated.

but perhaps,

the value of the heart does not lie being held by someone.

it lies within itself—

in its resilience,

in its ability to love despite past wounds,

in its courage to keep beating even when no one listens.

because a heart that knows how to cherish itself…

will never be meaningless, whether someone holds it or not.

a heart that knows how to cherish itself will never be lost—it will always be found within its own beating;

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#createtogether #haveasipoftea #lifeatfirst #lifeatfirstsmellyonionbreath