Soulmates, sunflowers, hot air balloons, ballet, wildfire and music.
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EXCERPT:
"Why do you always call me sunflower?" She looks as though she's desperate for the answer, staring into my soul with so much sincerity in her words.
I smile to mysel...
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Never before, had I realized how much meaning a three word sentence could hold.
Three words. On repeat in my head, an endless loop that I can't seem to drown out.
It's done Harry.
Every time I close my eyes, a million memories flash before me. Almost as though it's one of those cameras from your childhood, with each click of the shutter a different image would shine through the viewfinder. Whereas this time, with each blink I see nothing but her face.
It feels like the most wonderful dream.
Until it's not anymore.
Because all I can hear are those three goddamn words. The words that can inflict such an indescribable pain.
It's done Harry.
And then there's the three words I should have said while I still had the chance.
The three words I guess she'll never get to hear from me.
I love you.
Three words in which are meant to be joyful, and said in celebration. But instead they're the three most sorrowful words to me.
Because I'm in love with a girl who will now never know.
It's my fault, I'm the one who left. Evie may have told me to leave, but I shouldn't have listened. She was so distraught, I could see it written on her face - no matter how hard she tried to hide it. I should have fought for her, for me, for us.
Instead, I chose to walk out on our relationship.
So now it feels as though I've lost everything; Evie, Esme, Dani, myself.
I shouldn't have left.
I should have stayed with her.
I should have argued, and let her scream and yell.
I should have told her I love her.
I should have let her tell me she hates me.
I shouldn't have left my sunflower.
But I left. Like the coward I am.
"Another double please mate." I motion to the bartender, raising my glass as a small reminder of what I've been drinking. He replies with a short nod and I quickly down the rest of the jack and coke left in the glass, ready for the next.
I'm not the kind of guy who would usually revert to alcohol as a coping mechanism. I drink for enjoyment mostly.
But I've already lost count of the amount of drinks he's placed in front of me tonight. All I know is I'm not numb enough yet, because I can still hear her voice in the back of my head and I can smell her perfume floating in the air and I can feel her skin on mine.
