~ Meredith ~
Untitled
I asked you never to bring me flowers.
He’d brought me deceptively easy gifts of flowers and chocolates. I used to breathe in deep, inhaling the scent of the roses. I used to unwrap the chocolates with delight, innocently savouring the moment as I bit into the chocolate and let it melt on my tongue.
“I missed you and when I saw these I thought of you,” he said as he returned from trips abroad, laden with Belgian truffles or tulips from Amsterdam. I was inoculated against irony by the strength of my love for him. I was blinded by romance so I didn’t recognised clichéd flowers or the tawdry sweets for what they were: Evidence of a lie.
I asked you never to bring me flowers because you — my love — you are not like him. So when I saw the vase on the windowsill this morning, I knew…
…
…
… I knew it was time to bury the past. I lay down the white feather as a sign of my surrender.
I surrender, my love. Bring me flowers whenever you will and I will never doubt that you’ll be true.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, Debra Broughton and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
