This & That

This Flower

Do you remember this flower?

We were sixteen.

Of course, you might not recognize it now. It has been years since you gave it to me, and no flower gets to live that long. But this used to be the most vibrant sunflower I had ever seen. Out of all the flowers you gave me, this holds the most meaning. Well, for me, anyway.

You gave it to me on the night of my sixteenth birthday. By then, we'd already been dating for about seven months, since I officially said yes to you on the day of your fifteenth birthday.

Us being us, we fought about petty things all the time. But the worst one at the time happened the weekend before my birthday. I left you crying on your front porch. You were crying and you refused to listen to me. Love, you looked like you couldn't breathe; you were heaving, with tears streaming down your face. You didn't even want to look at me. So I left. God, it tore me to shreds to do so.

I couldn't sleep that night. I sneaked out and went to your house, remember? Since I had an extra key to your house, getting in was easy enough. I knocked on your bedroom door, and I didn't expect you to open it. But you did. You always did.

Not anymore, though.

Anyway, I said a lot of things. I apologized more times than I can count, and I explained everything. By the end of it, I had tears streaming down my face. You, on the other hand, looked like you were absolutely exhausted.

Do you remember what you said? "Can you please leave? I need time."

Fuck, it's not like it was all my fault. But I swallowed my pride for you; I always did. I love you more than anything, you know. I didn't know it then, but that was why I left that night.

It reminded me of when you consoled me after I severed ties with a very dear friend. You had a very distant look in your eyes when you said, "some things improve with time, love, but some things break even further. And, most of the time, it's the latter. So, it'd be best not to risk it and just let go."

I walked home in the rain, and the whole time, I was thinking about us. About what "time" has in store for us: improvement or heartbreak?

Do you even recall why we fought? It was because you saw a fool pull me, aiming to kiss me straight on the lips. You walked away before you even saw our lips meet. You left way before you saw me punch him straight on the nose as soon as he was near enough for it to inflict pain.

You know what hurt the most, though? You didn't believe me. Best friends for nine years, lovers for seven months, but you chose to believe them. Over me.

Anyway, I'm over that.

Going back to the day of my 'sweet' sixteenth, my friends threw me a party. And you weren't there. It was wishful thinking, I admit, but I thought you would have at least greeted me. You never missed my birthday.

You never used to, anyway.

I made my dad end the party by ten p.m., because I wasn't feeling up to pretending anymore. I was miserable, and I'd rather be miserable alone in my room. That was when I thought we were over. That we were broken; with no chance of repair.

But, you proved me wrong.

At exactly eleven thirty p.m., you knocked on my bedroom window. I was so worried you'd fall, so I quickly helped you in. Without thinking about my own feelings, I welcomed you back with open arms.

Stupidity has always been a flaw I couldn't get rid of.

We stood staring at each other for what felt like an eternity before I mustered up the courage to speak. "I thought you weren't going to come."

You apologized for everything.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I said, "okay."

We spent the last few minutes of my birthday slow dancing in my room. And right before the clock struck twelve, you gave me this sunflower.

That was the first time you told me you loved me.