Black Hydrangeas
All Rights Reserved
I stand here surrounded by hydrangeas. They remind me of a time so far away. A time of happiness. Though hydrangeas are common, these weren't. Their color almost black. Blood black I called them.
Why am I standing here surrounded by them and memories? Memories that started with a scribble after just learning the alphabet, a potato, and a game of tug-of-war? Memories of helping a smiling woman and a happy boy plant these blood black hydrangeas?
Memories that turned from games of hot potato to making sandwiches for a picnic, and the word boyfriend? Memories of my brothers threatening him to not hurt me? Memories of hand holding, sweet kisses, and so hot summer nights? Memories of a childhood love? Why?
Today I am surrounded by those hydrangeas, not for the wedding I always imagined, the wedding that was expected.
No, today I am surrounded by them as the man who was my childhood sweetheart marries my little sister. Today I am surrounded by them as we watch one of the most unexpected unions. After all, they had seemed to always hate each other. Or at least they had until I found them in our bed four months ago.
Today I stand here surrounded by hydrangeas as I finally give into the pain and watch as those hydrangeas that were once white join their blood black companions. I stand until I fall, and I give into this unexpected union of myself and Death...
No comments:
Post a Comment