may 13, 2021
𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒆,
your favorite flowers started to bloom today. i take it that spring has already started. i remember you telling me how it was your favorite season.
"what's your favorite season?"
"spring. it has always been spring." you said while you pick up a flower from the side while we were walking down it's cobblestone path.
"why?" i don't like spring. not when it is a reminder of false hope people hold on to just so they can revert back to their cruel ways the day after.
"it's beautiful. you can feel the earth coming back to life after dying during the fall, you know. and i think that's something to admire. i prefer to look at it that way, rather than thinking of it as hope, as a sign of a new beginning. that's load of crap. you can start a new beginning any time you want. whatever the season may be." i smile at her words.
exactly.
and i wonder if she sees the beauty of autumn as well. the beauty of when the leaves fall from trees and turns bright orange. because unlike the blooming of flowers, i find beauty in leaves falling without so much care that they look graceful doing so.
the single sunflower in our garden has started to bloom once again, in the direction of sunlight just when i thought i killed the poor thing. i almost worry how it would make you upset i failed to take care of it. more so, i worry about how it would make you mad at me. you know i hate it when you get mad.
today, i look out from the window of our shared bedroom and the sun was up in the sky even in the early morning. it was annoying, i hate mornings. but you seem to always love them. i don't know why you love them but i guess that's one of the things i learned to love about you.
how you love the things i hate and how you slowly taught me to see the brighter side in them. it's ridiculous how i learned to like them, a puzzle really. but then i realize i only like the things i hate when you're with me to appreciate them. because now when the bed's empty beside me, i scowl at the sunlight harshly illuminating our room remembering why i hated it so much in the first place.
i wish you were here.
but wishing for you will get me anywhere but your side right at this moment, so i do what you think i excel at.
after that dreadful moment of leaving bed, i willed myself to sit in front of my table and write this very letter. but i should have you know that there has been approximately twenty papers that have been crumpled before this very one. and i am still tempted to trash this away, too. you said you love the way i speak, the words that come out of my mouth when i talk. i guess that was the product of over achieving parents who disguises their need to prove to the world that they are great parents by enrolling their kids in stupid lessons that weren't even their children's interest at heart. i hate how they desperately tried to prove to their so-called friends how they have such talented children but if anything, the disgusting need to be above everyone else was exhausting.
i had to bear the weight of their disappointments. not only in me but also the disappointment of their own, for all the dreams they failed at. that's why they were so hell-bent on making me take a path i never wanted to in the first place.
but you were the first one to see through me, you know. i remember being so grateful that someone took their time and be patient with me whilst i stumble over the words that were not sarcastic. it was a habit. i think i can say i am less sarcastic now. but only with you.
