The Tulip Stand

The Tulip Stand.

Prologue.

...To Jamie,

Les roses sont rouges violettes sont bleu (je pense).

Le reste du monde célèbrent cette occasion dans les diverses façons comme j'ai choisi d'écrire à ma tentative insolite de poésie au seul. Vous sait seulement, la bonne personne quand il ou elle chante la musique seulement vous pourriez entendre.

roses are red violets are blue(I think)the rest of the world celebrates this occasion in various ways as I chose to write my unusual attempt of poetry to the one and only. You only know "the right person when he or she sings the music only you could hear."

Happy valentine

X X X X Suz

(Don't laugh.)

I stare at the email in astonishment. How old was this anyways? I looked at the date, practically seven years. An old ache ignited somewhere in my chest, why am I still feeling this bad? I knew it wouldn't work out and so I ended it before it began. I reluctantly found myself flipping through an old memory I am not particularly proud off. A bitter sweet one at that. He looked so charming, so different from the buffed out image I held of him in my head, I was terrified of kissing him, scared I would do it wrong, afraid he would leave me and every time I glanced at him my awkwardness was intensified, the more I talked to him the more I realise the words I have left out. I really truly liked him but didn't know how to deal with this alien feeling, and so I broke it off, I turned away his advances for a kiss, and I became distant while hating myself along the way. We never talked about it which was different form the everyday chatting we used to do before we met and this happened, it took at least two days before all contact vanished, I supposed he had gone to Japan as he had told me before we met or I may have really messed up and hurt him really badly. I looked at the email address wondering if I could try reaching him again, I attempted by phone and email for a whole year but the email returned failed and the phone never rang. I flicked through the other mails we sent to each other. My breath caught and I instantly leaned closer to the screen....did I read right? My breath come in small gasps of hope flourishing somewhere in the pits of my heart. I found my fingers fumbling clumsily over the keyboard loathing my inability to type faster. 'My Space' popped on the screen, typing in his name I waited impatiently for the page to open, wondering if it will come up empty like 'facebook' then find myself succumbing to the regret of what might have been. But surely he can not cut himself out of all social sites?

The page finally opened. I laughed when I saw what lay before my eyes, a mixture of disbelief and bitter joy mingled in me. Eagerly I clicked on his name, there is no way I can mistake his face. His profile opened and I realised with a shock he was 2years older instead of younger that I had believed...one of the reasons that contributed to me breaking it off. I eagerly drank in his favorite films, music, interest nothing much has changed in his taste and even a few comments, then scanned through his photos. Even after seven years I found myself strongly missing him and still beating myself up over what I did to him, twice! Somehow finding myself about to break his heart for the third time. Never less I resisted writing a small note of hallo but instead made my own my space profile and debating with my conscious whether to contact him after so long or not....and if I do, how would I feel if he refused to acknowledge I exist...somehow this didn't seem like the gentle hearted Jamie I knew, but a lot can change in seven years. And so I firmly closed off the site. For his own sake I will restrain myself from contacting him again. I got up from the screen and hastily rushed to open the door, but I am glad to see by the looks of those photos he is doing well. With that I closed a final chapter of my life and prepared for a new one. "Ok! I am coming!" whoever was knocking was very insistent. My temper already rising I clicked the lock open and sharply slung the bars hoping the commotion won't wake up my other customers. I reached deep for the keys in my pocket and fumbled it into the lock. Finally I shoved the door open, already a mouthful of swear words on the tip of my tongue. But instead I froze, it can't be!

Jamie?!