She sat on her bed with a cup of tea, hands clasped tightly around the mug, willing it to warm her fingers and hoping it could do the same to her mind, allowing her for a bit of peace. This seemed impossible, given an inveterate prejudice her family could sometimes display. Sighing, shetook a sip, grateful for the distraction. She took her tea-drinking seriously. It was therapeutic. She reached for it in times of a caffeine withdrawal, an illness, at a gathering, or simply in appreciation of the fine beverage that it was. At present, it allowed her to assimilate her thoughts of a pattern of predictive reactions that occurred whenever a potentially life-altering event happened. Note, potentially. Life had not changed. And neither had their reactions. For the most part, it was alright. More than alright. However, sometimes, it was the little things that could get to her. The resigned expressions. The shrug of shoulders in deference. The you-should-haves-but-you-chose-not-to’s. She reminded herself that this was all understandable, albeit annoying. But still. Why was it that she could choose to give herself this reminder, when they remained woefully ignorant of it all?
Sighing yet again, she decided to dismiss it all, wondering why her mind had ventured into something from which nothing good could come out of.
Looking down at her half-full cup of tea, she closed her eyes briefly and smiled.