In the Language of the Flowers

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✾ Arum Lily ✾

Dear Ren. 

Wow, maybe it's kind of weird to actually write 'dear.' You're not really a 'dear.' It's hard to explain, but 'dear' is too gentle for you, I think. So. 

I almost started crying just seeing his handwriting. It was as close to hearing his voice as I'd gotten in a long time. 

My Ren. 
As I write this, you're in the room next to me stewing in self-resentment, guilt, and hatred. I suspect you think yourself a terrible monster or something equally as dramatic. Maybe you think you let your mom down. Maybe you even think you let me down.
I want to go and knock on your wall to let you know that I'm here, but can't bring myself to do it. Maybe because just being there for you doesn't seem like enough. You've had people 'be there' before. And it wasn't really enough for you. Rightly so. 

You're right. You're in front of me. You're right here, and it's not enough. 

So I thought hard about what would be enough. I wanted to do something that would show you how seriously in love with you I am. Because Ren, I am. I know I've told you again and again, but I don't think you've ever really understood. 
Maybe it's because you think that I'm amazing and that you're not. You think I'm too bright to ever genuinely concern myself with you. A shadow. An empty shell. But I have to break the news to you, Ren. I'm not that great. And so what? Why can't we just be mediocre together? What's so wrong about that?

When I was a kid, I used to worry all the time about being extraordinary. I immersed myself in literature because it made the world seem magical, special. It made the future seem promising. When I got older, I realized that the real world couldn't compare with my imagination, no matter how hard it tried. Everything was so painfully ordinary. Or worse, it was ordinarily painful. Terrible things happen, Ren. Every day and all over the world. Not just to us, if you can believe it. 
I lost hope altogether when mom died. There was just emptiness in its place. Meaninglessness. 

But then I met you. For the first time since I was a child, the future seemed promising. I could look past all the pain in the world. I could hope again. For a person who'd given up on magic, you were a miracle. 

My love for you isn't ordinary. For a while, I tried to make it ordinary. I tried to force it into a box. 'Just a crush,' I kept telling myself. I pretended like it was something I could control, like it was something I could resist. But your brilliance has obviously overwhelmed me. When you showed up at Satan's house, I felt steamrolled by you. I felt helplessly pulled toward you. 

I wondered if he could feel me pulling now.

Something like that isn't just a crush. It just isn't. The truth is that you're a part of me now. I'm not sure when it became like that. Surely, it was before Florida. When you left, I was furious more than I was terrified. I was angry that you'd left because it felt like you'd ripped me in half. The way I look at the world, who I am in it... You influence all of me. And yeah, it makes me mad. And it scares me. But it also builds me up. It makes me the sort of happy I once thought I'd never be again. It makes me feel warm. 

Surely, that's not ordinary. I feel outrageously lucky every day--every minute!--I get to spend with you. 

I understood now. He really did love me. Does, I reminded myself. I knew this because what he described was exactly what I felt: torn in two. 

Before she died, my mom warned me that I'd fall in love soon enough. I'd fall in love and I wouldn't be able to fall back out of it. I think she knew it would happen because that's how it was for her and my dad. Or maybe she just knew what kind of person I was. 
It was encouraging, though. When she was dying, I clung to that promise. You'll fall in love. You will, Beau. And when you do, you won't be able to fall back out. I repeated it again and again in my head because I knew that when she was gone, all this love in my life was going to disappear. I'd need something new. Not to replace it with--you can't replace someone like her--but to remind me that the world isn't only a cold place. There are wonderful pockets of safety and comfort sown in.