part for me, after I’ve distanced myself from a human, is the flash of their giant fucking smile in my head, days, months, years after they are gone.
I’m addicted to giant smiles.
In apes, smiles are an indicator of fear or stress. Sometimes I smile when I am afraid or stressed out or want to scream or hammer holes into my wood floor. But mostly I smile when I feel nice inside, the smile creeps from my mouth and I cannot stop it. Humans mostly smile for this reason. And I tend to love humans with giant teeth or giant mouths.
Thinking about giant smiles when I know I will never again feel the modesty of a giant smile from some people with incredible giant smiles makes me feel a tug in my eyebrows, a tingling in the corner of my eyes, a quiver in my throat.
I haven’t seen my dad’s giant smile in years.
My brother’s giant smile since he was a child.
My aunt’s giant smile since I was a child.
I mostly see Christina’s giant smile when she’s talking to her family members on the phone. I love her so much, but it’s been a really fucking rough going for a great deal of our relationship and I mostly see a look of determination on her face. The last time I saw her giant fucking smile was probably last Halloween when she was trying to hold a monocle in her eye cave. We did too much taking care of other people too soon.
It’s not too often I feel my own giant smile. The one that makes my jaw hurt afterwards.
Two evenings ago.
The last words I spoke to my sister before hanging up the phone.
Thank the universe I have her giant smile. Too bad I can only feel it traveling across magical phone lines.