Love Me When I Am In Full Bloom,
Not When I Am Still, Blooming.
Walking to a street of damp pathways with you, we walk hand to hand, exchanging sweet glances to one another, we notice that under our leather boots, we step on the petals that had been stepped on & it’s like I’m in a garden of a grandma’s home, as I can smell the aroma of moss and roses, and I wonder to myself, “where is it coming from?” and you look at me with a confused look and ask, “what are you talking about?” And I respond with a surprised reaction by saying, “can’t you smell it? I’m smelling flowers, are you not?” and as we ease the awkwardness from that conversation, you take out your camera, & I make poses under this maple tree, and as the burnt orange leaves, start to fall from the tree, you can no longer take a proper photo at all, and you let out a sigh, but if you’d look up at the sky, there’s no rain, so why don’t you smile & let’s just walk a little more for a little while, and as we walk into this flower shop, I can’t help myself but stop and admire the beautiful aroma of flowers, but this time it’s much closer, and I knew it, “Ah ha, I knew I was smelling the aroma, I wasn’t being crazy” you let out a chuckle, & I close my eyes & I suddenly inhale the scents & I fall more in love, & I see the vines of entangled clematis on the wooden fence, outside the shop, I see orchids on top of a shelf with their own small little vases, daisies on top of the counter along with their other friends giving light and beauty to the place, lavender sitting by the verandah, and a flower bed of roses and carnations beside the sunflowers, and then the florist looks at me, and she says “oh, you look so lovely today, why don’t you purchase a flower, my dear? I return a smile to her and say “oh, it will certainly make my day. There’s just all so admirable, I don’t know what to choose.” but before I could even think, you hold me close from behind and whisper to me, “pick the red carnation, or the red rose.” And I look at you with a questionable look and wonder “why?” as the florist admires our public affection, you pick the red carnation flower and you put behind my hair from my left ear and place the carnation flower behind my ear, and you simply say, “it, just suits you.” The florist expression is like as if I am her daughter who invited her boyfriend to her mother’s flower shop, and as I stand there in awe of your compliment, I choose the red carnation flowers and put them into a vase, along with different coloured daisies, roses, and Camellia flowers, and it’s a beautiful spring, my heart starts to sing & the birds chirping outside, and as we purchase it, we say our goodbyes and as we say our farewell to the florist, she stops us at the front door, and she says “here’s some seeds if you want to grow them as well, and don’t forget you are a flower too.” I smile back at her and I say “thank you for being so wonderful, welcoming & kind. I’ll definitely come and visit again.” As we leave the flower shop, I can’t help but smile so much at the flowers that I am bringing home, I’m like a 5 year old with a happy heart after receiving a flower from a stranger. You drop me off at my doorstep, you inhale the scent of the plant, & you suddenly start to fall in love as well, it’s a scent that is so unique and adoring, it’s a perfume scent a young woman like me, would love to have, as we both say goodbye to each other, I come home and I place my vase and flowers beside my window where the sun light rays could shine upon them, and as I see you outside my window, I blush and blow a kiss as you get into your car & drive off.
I water the plants and with the seeds that the florist had given me, I remember my mother giving me a blue vase with my name carved on it, I washed it with warm water and then after rinsing, I put it next to the flowers, and I add some soil until it fills almost halfway, and I sprinkle the seeds on top the soil, and I water them every morning, afternoon, and night and if it rains, I change their location and put it outside to give its most moisture as it deserves, and each and every visit of your arrival, it grows a bit more and it grows, grows until it blossoms to a beautiful carnation flower, and you notice it from downstairs on the street, “oh, it’s growing, it’s suddenly growing into a flower, it’s blossoming.” He said. You come to visit and check on the flower each and everyday, to ask “how are you going?” “How’s, our little one?” But, when you’re not around, I talk to the flower, having sweet talks as it’s also my best friend, when I am having a busy day, feeling alone, and if I just want someone to talk to, I’d say “good morning” and “good night” to it every day and I kept at it like a practice and not once have I missed a day to not talk to it, she is a wonderful company, she’s like my living heart, blossoming outside my body, that I can always have a conversation with and it’s like it can also speak to me as well, not verbally but in a way that it grows, and sways by the wind, because there’s no doubt that plants have feelings.
When I am feeling sad, it seems that it is also feeling down, and as your absence lingers on, it turns it’s head away from the sun, and faces the shadows, the dark corners of my window, and it had stopped growing, it looked completely lifeless, almost dead, it had lost it’s magic, it’s image, and even with water, it’s as if we are in the shower, with our head down letting the water fall on our back, with closed eyes not realising that we are actually crying, thinking that nothing can help us heal. But, that isn’t true? There’s something that I must do, and then as I cry out loud to maybe, the dead carnation flower can possibly hear me, I cry and continue to, until suddenly a tear drop that falls down my cheek, & it falls into a petal, it drips on to the soil, and then it rises it’s head up and slowly by surely, my eyes start to widen, as it starts to blossom again, it’s black edges had disappeared and then it gives me a little hug, knowing that everything is going to be okay, “stop, crying because it hurts me too.””I am okay, I’m healing, so stop crying.” I stop my tears and I breathe in and out, and suddenly the night turns to daytime and the sun shines on it’s head once again, catching it’s light and rays as much as possible, although now the other flowers that I had chosen from the flower shop also gives my little lonely one, a warm hug as the other seeds continue to grow, I see a little red rose start to rise from the soil, and I think to myself that I must love my own self as the roses, carnations, lavenders, camellias, and daises I had bought, it’s a mirror of my own heart in full bloom, full of love and light, the one I had planted as a seed, is my own heart learning to fall in love with myself again after it’s been neglected, and not well looked after, completely broken, lifeless, and weak. We often would want someone else to quench our thirst like as if we are their plant, but I think back and remember what the florist had told me before I left the flower shop, as she had said “don’t forget you are a flower too.” and that’s all I need to remember to feel okay again, as your absence no longer worries me, I’ve learnt to water my own plant, it’s going to be okay, I am going to be okay.
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