The Face That Isn’t Really Smiling

Astral has this thing she does.
When she’s having a bad day.
Not the dramatic, “throw things and scream at the world” kind of day.
The quiet kind. The heavy kind. The barely holding it together but still showing up kind.

She draws this face:

:]

Just a colon and an ending bracket.

Always with a pen. Sometimes on her notebook.
Sometimes on my hand.
Once on a fogged-up mirror.

She says it’s stupid.
She says it doesn’t mean anything.
But I know better.

When Astral draws it, I know she’s tired.
I know she’s sad.
I know she’s not sure how to say, “I’m here. Barely. Still smiling.”

So she lets the face say it for her.

I never erase them.
Not off my skin. Not out of my notebooks.
Because it feels like a promise.
Like even on the worst days, we’re still here.
Still surviving.
Still smiling, just barely.
But still.

:] — I’m here. Barely. Still smiling.

Currently: ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚Still existing, despite everything,⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚