SAUDADE // I loved you

-𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 7- ✔

- 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ✔-

: Chapter 7 : Perspective ~ Her :

That's when he held my hand. I looked up to see Elios again. With his golden eyes, he stared at me. He started a long, hard stare. That's when I felt myself losing it. I reached forward, staring deep into his beautiful eyes. But then the sun tilted. I looked again, and standing there was the coffee shop owner. His brown hair was scuffed and in his hand a dustpan and sweep. I quickly apologized, my guilt spreading outwards. I'm so sorry, I thought you were someone else. Then, I quickly rushed out, before anybody could say anything.

The bell jingled. It rang in a single peal, then stopped. The joyful sounds are forgotten. I grow strong against this wind; muscles working all the more. It feels fresh against my skin, making a fine flag out of my hair. You can hear the trees in a chorus, singing a song as confident as ever. Something I could never do. For the mess of the days ahead they will be like climbing a mountain, as difficult as everything. I wish it would be like plain sailing, as easy as summer daydreams, as smooth as ice. Oh, I wish. I really wish.

The sky was a perfect blue today. It was one of those baby-blue skies, not the candy-blue nor the washed out grey of wintry mornings. The clouds were puffs of radiance, ready to spill into the wind. I watched them, pure reflected rays dappled and swirling along with the sky, until all that remained was that perfect baby-blue with the clouds with wings, floating everywhere. I walked down the cobbled road, my boots clicking against the stones. Music fills the air as I walk down, brushing off the dried blood from my hand. Many react to the beat, a couple dancing together, while others continue in a chatter. This was the city. Relaxing, calm and inviting.

The lofting smells of the saccharine bread, floats through the square. It reminds me of Elios when he used to cook. His bread was amazing. It was that aromatic smell that drove me insane. I followed the scents and the crowds, the loud chatter of the many people. It was the perfect little town. Somewhere, where you could be invisible in a crowd. Where your status is unknown until you reveal yourself. Lovely.

I gathered myself, as I walked through the road. My heart was beating insanely loud. I think I was going insane but it felt like the fucking end of life. Why do people come back, when they have already gone? I had forgotten him. He was just the old memory that I loved and loathed. Nothing more, nothing less. But that split second when I saw him in the coffee shop, had me shook. It was that sensation that rustled inside my stomach, that hurt and made me groan. He was an asshole to me. He had hurt me more than I expected, pulling me around, dragging my body around the court. Until what they are now. Bits and pieces of pain and sadness on the floor.

Perspective states that if we are beautiful we will be cared for. Wrong. We aren't. The most loved, are the most hurt. The world is cruel. For all of us. We as people will always be hurt. Whether beautiful or not. We are bullied. It is so painful to see others and ourselves wither slowly time by time. Those who say they are happy may be sad. Their emotions and feelings are all hidden behind a big smile. They are always there but never acknowledged. Said to be loved, but aren't actually loved.

That's what I feel.

That's when I wished he was still alive. Then I could tell him of the stories and experiences and everything that I felt. I felt like a flower. A beautiful, thriving flower. Flowers are fragile. They are beautiful and admired. But the most beautiful die the fastest. Ripped from its home and its family's loving hands. They are admired, loved, cared for yet slowly dying one by one. Their dreams and aspirations fall slowly, lightly touching the floor. Covered in dirt, they are hidden then stepped on. Destroyed and never loved again. 

He was like a flower as well. Except nobody knew who they were before, only what he was now Dead. But technically they don't really know much. His family doesn't know anything. They still call me, ask how I've been, how I've been holding up in life without him, they just don't know what actually happened.