Do you ever have the same dream about someone almost every day?
‘Coz I have.
My dreams were not on the same scene every time, but always with the same guy.
His name was Peter.
Is he real?
I don't even know either.
But I wish he was, though.
+++
“Christine!” A male voice caught my ear. The way he said my name brought a smile to my lips.
He’s here again.
“You came again,” I said, smiling, as I approached him sitting on a bench.
He smiled warmly, telling me to sit beside him. My eyes fixed on his right arm. He had a tattoo of a sunflower. The dark ink complemented his fair skin really well.
“I told you I’d always come for you,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ears.
I felt a bit shy because of his words, yet I couldn’t bring myself to avert my gaze from his eyes. The way the sunlight reflected on his face made his fair skin glow. He looked ethereal. He looked dashing.
He smiled warmly; his eyes were almost gone.
I rested my head over his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around me. I felt safe and warm as he caressed the back of my hand with his thumb, soothingly. We sat still as we enjoyed the comfortable silence overlaying the coolness of the breeze blowing across the fields of beautiful sunflowers.
“Ah,” Peter uttered suddenly, making me look up at him, frowning.
He just smiled at me softly before fishing something beside him.
Then he was holding a flower for me.
A sunflower.
My lips immediately curled into a smile as I took the sunflower from him.
“Sunflower symbolizes positivity and long-lasting happiness, which I always wish for you,” he said softly, as his brown orbs bore into my black ones.
I looked down at the sunflower I was holding, smiling at his words.
“And it also symbolizes love and admiration,” he murmured, making me look at him. His eyes were full of emotion, love above all.
“...which I always feel for you,” he continued, reaching for my hand.
“Sweet as ever, huh?” I uttered softly as I looked down slightly, feeling my cheeks warm.
“Only for you,” he said, caressing my hand.
I hummed while smiling. “Why so sudden?" Though flattered, I couldn’t help but ask. And I know he knew what I meant.
He just hummed softly before looking at the sunflower field. “Because I feel that this is the last one.”
I blinked, looking at him. I couldn’t understand. “What do you mean this is the last?”
Is he leaving?
Will he never visit me in my dreams again?
He looked back at me again, smiling lovingly, before caressing my cheeks.
“I love you, Christine,” he whispered softly before pressing his lips to mine.
Tears fell from my eyes as I felt his touch slowly vanishing. He disappeared before me.
Peter was gone.
+++
I woke up earlier with tears streaming down my cheeks.
Peter vanished right before my eyes. And it hurts.
What did he mean by “last”?
Will he visit my dream again?
I missed him.
“Miss! Bili ka na ng bulaklak,” a flower vendor called as I passed his stall, knocking my thoughts off.
I smiled, stopping in my tracks as I approached his spot. My eyes wandered at the different kinds of flowers he was selling until a certain flower caught my attention.
“Sunflower, miss. Freshly picked. Sariwang sariwa ngayong tag-init,” he chimed, as he caught me eyeing the bucket of sunflowers.
I smiled at him. “How much po ang isa, kuya?”
Kuya vendor's eyes gleamed, making me melt in the process; his joy was just wholesome.
“125 pesos na lang po sa iyo, miss.”
“Sure ka po? Baka discounted ‘yan ah?” I chuckled softly.
He just grinned and nodded. “S’yempre naman po. Pakiramdam ko rin na makikilala mo ngayon ang kung sinong hinahanap ng puso mo.”
His words had taken me aback. “What do you mean, kuya? I have no boyfriend po.” I laughed as I handed him the money.
He just chuckled, handing the sunflower I bought to me. “Thank you po ulit, miss.”
I bowed slightly, smiling at him.
After minutes of walking, while eyeing the flower I was holding, a memory suddenly flashed in my mind.
+++
“Alam mo ba ‘yong ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ thingy while plucking the petals of a flower?”
“Ah, I know that. Anong meron do’n?”
“Alam mo ba na if you do that while thinking of someone clearly in your mind, whatever the result is—whether ‘they love you’ or ‘they love you not’—it is really true daw.”
“Pft. You believe that?”
+++
“Should I give it a try? Sayang ‘yong flower,” I murmured, eyeing the sunflower I was holding.
I heaved a deep sigh. Ah, bahala na.
I thought of Peter's face and started plucking a petal.
“He loves me,” I mumbled then picked another petal, “he loves me not.”
I continued plucking and mumbling as I walked through the crowd.
“He loves me,” I whispered when someone bumped onto me, making me stumbled a bit.
If it wasn’t for him who held my waist, I would probably fell off my butt.
“S-sorry,” I uttered, softly, wiping my jeans without looking up at him.
He said nothing and just handed me the sunflower which I dropped.
I smiled, reaching for the flower, as I caught a glimpse of his arm under the soft fabric of his yellow sweater.
As soon as I took the flower from him, he strode away, not even letting me see his face and thank him properly.
I took a deep breath, waving the thought off my head, before continuing on my tracks again and picking a petal on where I left off.
“He loves me not.”
“He loves me.”
“He loves me not.”
I stopped for a minute when I passed by a bench. It was similar to that in my dream.
I smiled softly before sitting and continuing on where I stopped.
“He loves me.”
“He loves me not.”
I continued picking and mumbling until there were only two petals left.
I heaved a sad breath, eyeing the petals, before closing my eyes.
“Even though it was just I dream, a huge part of me still wishes that everything you confessed was real...”
I slowly opened my eyes before looking down at the almost petal-less flower I was holding.
“He loves me,” I mumbled.
...that you really love me.
I smiled faintly, before picking the last one.
“He loves me not.”
A tear escaped from my eyes.
Ah, damn. This feels like a freaking break-up even though I was in a relationship with no one.
I chuckled lightly, feeling a single tear streams down my cheek.
“What do you mean by last? What do you mean, Peter?”
Then out of nowhere, a tattooed arm wearing a yellow sweater reached out to me, holding a sunflower petal.
“He loves you,” a familiar voice uttered softly, making me look up.
“You dropped a petal earlier.” He smiled, urging me to take the last petal from his hand.
“He loves you, Christine,” he said again—the man who bumped onto me earlier.
I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore.
I knew it.
It was a sunflower—the tattoo on his arm.
“Peter,” I mumbled as I stood up, tears streaming down my face as I looked into his eyes.
“It was the last one, Christine,” he uttered softly, “the last dream I’ll be sharing with you.” He caressed my cheeks, wiping my tears off.
“Because starting today, everything will be real now.” He smiled lovingly—the smile that always radiates warmth and comfort.
“I love you, Christine,” he mumbled, before placing a soft, gentle kiss on my lips.
I smiled against his lips, tugging his sweater with my left hand, as I held the last petal against my chest.
“The last one,” I mumbled between kisses.
I felt his lips curl. “My last one.”
— hisyeongwonehi © 20(20)23