To The Boy/✔

Five

She was right, Marsha Anne. It was sad that I always was the same. That I never had a boyfriend, that everything I say is the same thing just repeated over and over. It was sad that I was inside reading, studying, researching when I could be out being a teenager.

Its sad that I only go out to the library, the local garden and to the same restaurant. It's sad that my life is consistent, that it's scheduled and that it's so restricted it's actually depressing.

And it's sad that I only talk to my brother. And by talk I mean have an actual meaningful conversation. Where you spill out your feelings, where there's no filters, where it's just pure honesty.

Sometimes I craved interaction with people, but that was rare. It was always short lived because of remind myself that would mean you'd actually have to have friends and to actually have a conversation with someone that wasn't your brother. And then it dies.

“Rosaline, what an expected visit.” I looked behind the counter and saw Mary chuckling. I gave her a smile and leaned over the top of the counter.

“Hello Mary.” She smiled back and sat up, taking out a letter from the envelope she had opened.

“You're here rather early my dear.” I shrugged and folded my hands.

“I was eager to see my favorite florist.” She rolled her eyes and and let them skim past the words on the paper she held. A small smile spread her lips and set it aside.

“Good news I'm hoping?” She nodded and stood up from the stool she sat on.

“My grandson is coming up, he's staying for a while. A long while actually.”

“How long?”

“Four months.” I rose an eyebrow and smiled a little more.

“I bet Gerald will be excited.” Her smile widened and nodded.

“Oh yes, David is wonderful.” We stood there for a while until she sighed and nodded towards the back door.

“It's already open for you back there.” I nodded and started to walk back there.

“I hope I get too meet him… David I mean.” I looked up at her and her smiled grew against her aging face.

“Of course.” I nodded and walked through the back door and looked at the garden that was hidden from all others.

There was a bench in the exact middle, all the flowers they grew were surrounding me. Their store at the far end of town, more secluded than most and definitely had more room than it lead on.

May I also add that maybe another sad thing was I spent a lot of time here, either writing in my journal or reading. And that maybe I did have someone other than my brother… that were a good five more of less decades older than me.