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The Marigold flower represents a passion, a creativity, but underneath the beauty of such an alluring flower, it is difficult to ignore the cruelty, the jealousy and the grief.
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My parents used to take me on similar walks to this when we used to come on holiday here every summer, my Mum was even thinking about buying a house out here, so that she had some sort of refuge whenever she needed it, she said it would be her escape, somewhere she could rely on. A constant.
Sometimes I wish she did while she was still here, so it was somewhere I could go, to feel close to her.
In some ways, I think when a loved one goes missing and is never found, it's worse than knowing they're dead. You can't ever have closure, and you have to make the conclusion yourself, decide when to give up. And after you've decided, you then have nowhere to go, nothing to sit by in the cemetery, nothing to scatter in a special place. It's empty, and I hate it.
It's like she's everywhere, but absolutely nowhere at the same time.
Before I end up in fucking Switzerland, I stop to take a breather, hands resting on my knees, body folded over as I pant, I didn't realise how fast I'd been running, or how far I'd gone.
I turn around, following the river back in the direction I came from, lightly jogging as I begin to catch my breath.
As I approach the doors to our hotel, Harry is no longer stood outside, but I can see three cigarette butts on the floor where he was stood.
Lazy twat, there's a bin right inside.
I walk up to my room and let myself in, getting my phone out and checking the time. I have about 40 minutes until I have to meet everyone downstairs.
I peel my small gym clothes off of my body and decide to take a cold shower. I weave my hair up into a bun, so it doesn't get wet and step under the running water.
The cold water trickling down my body is a feeling I will never be able to match. It's unexplainable relief.
Once I'm out of the shower, I paint on some light makeup and run my fingers through my curls after taking out the bun.
I throw on a loose red summer dress that exposes my collarbones with it's open shoulder detail. I slip on some flip-flops, which I love wearing when I'm away from home and grab my small backpack, phone and room key before turning off all the lights and closing the door.
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
When I see everyone waiting for me in the lobby, I smile to myself. Lola is smiling at me as I walk over to them, which rarely ever happens, Rosie is grinning as she's texting someone, I'm guessing it's Liam.
I spot Niall and see that he is wearing a white summer shirt with orange and blue delicate embroidery all over, he's paired it with some white canvas shorts and basic white toms.
Niall and Harry are talking passionately about something and I'm immediately drawn to his lips. The way they move as he articulates his words to Niall, the way his jaw hinges forward every time his mouth opens, the way his eyebrows clench and wiggle as he reacts to Niall's responses. It's mesmerising, he's mesmerising.
