promises, or the things we never kept

promises, are they something ethereal? or merely lines rehearsed for a scene in somebody else’s film?

why is it that promises are so easily spoken, yet so carelessly abandoned?

perhaps, to some, they are nothing more than a passing joke. like the promise my mother once made to take me to the aquarium when i was still a little girl.

i wonder if she remembers.

we are no longer children. we have grown into people who should know better, yet somehow, we still struggle to understand why a promise can mean so little to the person who makes it.

and still, i hold out my pinky. perhaps i have not grown as much as i thought i had.

because somewhere inside me, there is still a little girl waiting for someone to keep their word.