the flowers; h.s.

day two

I haven't left my small apartment room that once was home to two people instead of just one. I began to forget what it was like to have him around, but then I look around and remember exactly what I forgot. I look at the kitchen and remember each time that he made me breakfast in the morning. I look at the couch and remember how we used to lie on each other for hours, just talking about our lives before we met. I look at the bed that we once shared and see all of the sleepless nights that we spent together. And remembering all of these things is making me regret ever trying to think them up. Because my feelings for him only linger; there is no action upon them, they just sit in my chest, allowing me to feel the pain that his absence brings me.

I look over at the beautiful flowers that are sitting there on my desk, staring straight at me. I wish that I had the courage to put them somewhere else, but I feel like if I move them, it completely destroys any chance of him coming back to me.

So I allow them to sit there and stare at me. Looking all healthy while I look completely withered. Looking beautiful while I haven't showered since he left. Looking like they are worth a million dollars while I look like a dull penny found face down in a dirty gas station bathroom.

The differences between the flowers and myself have brought on yet another memory of the time when me and him were together. I don't remember much, seeing as the memory is rather distant and therefore calls me to use centers of my brain that I don't use very often.

What I do remember is him. And how he looked, and the smile that he faintly wore as he idled in each of the aisles, looking for candy or chips or whatever would sustain his appetite. I remember the way his mouth moved when he said my name from a distance, glancing around at the small store. I remember walking up from behind him and grabbing his sides, making him jump a bit. He turned around and embraced me, laughing. And that's another thing that I remember. His laugh. His adorable, loving laugh that was like music to my ears. I can still hear it now if I think about it long enough.

"You scared the shit out of me, Alia," He laughed. I smiled up at him, knowing that he was my entire world and not knowing that in just a few months, he would leave me for something else. It was something, not someone, right?

"You're such a baby," I said, squeezing his sides again just so I could see his lanky self squirm once more.

"That's babyism! I do not tolerate babyism!"

"I don't even know what babyism is."

"Oh, you will when I tell you!"

"Okay, then tell me."

"Babyism is like racism or feminism or sexism, but for babies. Because, you see, you just called me a baby and that's very offensive to babies."

"Babies don't even realize that this is happening. They don't care."

"Ah, yes. Of course you would say that. Most people who are ignorant to babyism do." I burst out into laughter, not being able to hold it in any longer. I wish that I could go back to this moment to allow myself to keep going with the joke because that was when he was at his best, when he was being witty and joking around with me. It was in those moments that my feelings for him were verified.

But now all of those moments are gone. Vanished into thin air, just like he was vanished. And the sucky thing about that was... once a moment is gone, there is no getting it back. All a person has is the memories that come and go in waves, some come back to you in later times, but others never do. And the moment is wasted because if it really meant that much to you, wouldn't you remember it? Wouldn't you keep it in the vault in your brain that allowed you to remember moments that you cherished above all? None of it made sense to me because I know that if I really loved the moment, it would never go astray in my brain. So why do moments that I just described go away and come back for later remembrance?

I wasn't sure and I didn't want to think about it for much longer. Because all I could think about was him, and if I did that for any moments longer then I might combust. But I'm thinking that that's inevitable anyways.