You know those “anonymous posts” people put in their journals? The “I know who you are and you know what you did so fuck you” posts? I wanted to do one of those. So, this is my version.
Don’t worry, it isn’t about you. But, if you like, you can pretend it is. 😉
Do you rememeber the last time we laughed together? The last time we cried together? The last time holding each other wasn’t an obligation?
I remember sitting together, drinking soda, talking. Talking about the things that we couldn’t talk about to anyone else. Our own secret language. I remember the way you looked at me. I remember the way you smiled at me. I remember the quiet promise we made, the one we never told anyone… not even each other. We just knew it. It was a song we shared in our hearts, never spoken.
That song is gone.
Now, when we meet, we force smiles up to our lips and make our eyes shine… but the light is false. And the song we used to silently sing together, our hearts bursting from the passion… we have to struggle to remember the words.
There was once a time that you and I might have been something greater than what we were. We were friends. We may have become something that even the Gods themselves could not achieve. We would have drawn down their jealous wrath, but what we shared would have been our Aegis shield. All the Gods, they could not sever us.
But that was then.
Like an untended garden, weeds have grown up, choking the blossoms that once grew there. Nettles and thorns creep up and catch my sleves and cuffs. Their thick smell covers me as I struggle to find even a single rose. Just one. If I could find even one…
We made a quiet promise. We knew if it was ever uttered, it would die. This is what we told ourselves. But, we were wrong. In the void of silence, surrounded by darkness, it slowly faded. It failed.
And as it grew weaker, others sabotaged it. Trust turned to mistrust. We became convinced that the other betrayed our vow. And, in the end, we cut down the garden in spite of the weeds.
I walk through it now, wondering how long it has been since you were here. The grass is high, almost up to my waist. I walk through, a little sad, but mostly angry at myself for neglecting it for so long.
I turn, just ready to leave. That’s when I see it. Just out of the corner of my eye. I almost didn’t find it at all. A tiny blossom, curled up tight, almost strangled by the grasses.
I bend down low, using my hands to dig through to the roots. I lift it in my hands, the dirt under my nails. I take it away from here. Far away from the ground we both poisoned.
And as I hold it, I wonder…. Holding it in my hands, I look at it. So small. So fragile. The leaves are green, but dry. And holding it, I remember the last time we laughed together. The last time we cried together. The last time holding each other wasn’t an obligation.
My breath catches in my throat and I feel something wet on my cheek. It falls from my face down to the tiny blossom in my hand. It touches the flesh of the flower and its leaves quiver. Then, open. Just a little. Almost too small to see.