the flowers; h.s.

day one

The room seemed smaller now.

I didn't realize how much clutter this boy brought with him. How much space that was left open now that he was no longer here.

The feelings of missing him are coming and going in waves. I keep thinking back to the first time that I met him. How beautiful I thought he was with his hair pushed back in a bandana. How I thought his smile lit up the entire room and made everyone turn their heads just to stare at the great illuminating grin that was plastered on his face. How he walked with such confidence, not knowing that with every step I was slowly falling in love with him.

He didn't notice me staring until he came to the register to buy a pack of gum. I was working down at the old gas station that was on the outside of town near the ballparks. The store was right off of some major highway that eventually led to some big city that I had never been to.

My town was a small, hole-in-the-wall type of place. A person could drive right through it without even realizing that they went through a town.

When he saw me, he let himself smile at me as he put his gum on the counter.

"What's this town called?" He asked. His voice was deep, unlike anything that I had ever heard. He had some kind of accent from somewhere, and his voice was smooth and dark.

"Um, St. Laurent," I answered in my small, boring voice. This boy was so beautiful, just looking at him made me blush.

"Is it nice here?"

"Yeah, kind of lonely though. Not a lot of people come around, and when they do, they're just passing through."

"So it's hard to make friends?"

"Well, it's more of you have to be careful of who you befriend because you never know when they're going to leave you." He studied my face intently as I put his gum in a plastic bag. He handed me some money, not taking his eyes off of me.

"I think I know what you mean."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I mean, I'm usually the one who's leaving the people behind."

"And why is that?"

"I-I don't know. It's kind of a long story." I looked directly into his eyes, reading into his troubled expression.

"And I assume that you won't be coming back?"

"No, no. This place is too small for me. I have a bit of a problem with everyone knowing me and being in my business."

"Yeah, but that can also be a nice thing. Because then you always have people to look out for you." It was like he had never considered this because he lifted his eyebrows a bit and nodded his head. I handed him his change and the plastic bag and smiled at him feebly.

"Have a nice day," I said.

"Thank you. You too." And with that, he left the store, leaving behind nothing except the few words that we exchanged.

I remember hoping that I would see that beautiful boy again someday. There was just something about him that made me want to speak to him on more than one occasion.

He had this certain lure to him that made me want to figure out everything about him, from the thoughts that ran through his head when he first woke up to the way he styles his hair. I didn't even know his name or where he was from or why he had that funny little accent. All I knew was that I wanted to know everything. Is that weird?

But that was then. And this is now, with me in a state of shock and numbness, not being able to actually confirm it to myself that he's gone. That he's not about to walk through that door any second now with one of his jaw-dropping smiles that make me weak at the knees and a new prize from one of the towns that he visited that day. It doesn't feel real, the fact that the boy that I love is somewhere else, somewhere far away from me and this life that we built together. He could be with anyone, doing anything and I wouldn't be the one who he comes home to see and tell all of the adventures that he accomplished that day.

He left me behind without an explanation, without a goodbye. He only left a bouquet of flowers with a small note beside it, containing a promise that I wasn't even sure that he would keep. And what would happen if he did keep it? If I stayed in this room forever just waiting for his return, not batting one eyelash at anyone ever because I might have someone waiting for me when I got home? It was a sick thing to do, but I couldn't say anything about it because I wanted more than anything for him to keep that promise that he made to me. I knew that I would wait for him to come back until that day that I died, whether it be alone with the absence of him still lingering all around me or it be with him by my side, holding my hand as I took my last breath.

Either way, I would be thinking of him.