{Wildflowers}

{Wildflowers}

We were young.

We were beautiful.

We grew where it was least expected.

But after we bloomed we began to die,

And then we were tragic.

Then we were wildflowers.

I was not the sad one, but people didn't realise this. Whenever they would think of me it would be with a flinch and a frown. Poor Rosalyn, they'd say, I never knew a girl could be so sad. How could they not see it? I was not the sad one.

After it happened you got all the pity. People who never knew me would come up to you and cry about how tragic it all was. And you? You'd pat them on the back, move them along, and only let them see a fraction of the breakage in your eyes. We were both broken, I'd give us that. You were smothered and I was abandoned; and whilst you were burning, struggling to get air, the oxygen around me was cold and unwelcome. At first it made me angry, for you deserved no pity. After a while it sated me, you had begun to realise what you had done and there was guilt - so much guilt. So let them pity you. Let you be reminded of the pain and let your internal wounds bleed. That lasted three months. But now? I feel your pain and it burns me. You thought you were helping and even though you were so desperately wrong, you had cared. No longer do I wish you pain.

Rosalyn and Amy. We had been a tale worthy of Oscars. One strait, one gay, and both utterly hopeless. I remember sleepless nights we'd spend in the woods. A bottle of alcohol would soon turn to three; closed off secrets would turn to wailing cries for help. You once told me that I was beautiful, so beautiful that you couldn't help but tumble into loving me. I told you that I loved Mark - my boyfriend. This had not taken a hit on our friendship. You knew that there could never be an "us" that were more than friends, but keeping it secret would not change your feelings. So you told me your feelings, and I told you I couldn't - not like that, and we forgave but never, ever forgot.

Eventually the era of Rosalyn and Mark ended. There was no cheating, but there was also no more love. This made you happy. To you, Mark was nothing more than a homophobic asshole. You let me love him though. He treated me like a queen and I thought it was beautiful, just what I had wanted. It took me three tubs of chocolate ice-cream to realize that all I really wanted was for someone to treat me like an equal - not above nor below. You held me as I cried for the end of an era, and then you pulled me up and told me to lift my head up high. So many times you saved me.

And this is why I could never hate you, not even when you killed me.

My mother left when I was seven. One day she took her keys, kissed my forehead, and just drove away. After that day my father was never the same. He was almost never home, but he was not working. To this day I still don't know where he would be for those long weeks. Zach had practically raised me. As an older brother of five years, he claimed it to be his duty. He was twelve, almost thirteen, when our mother went AWOL. His brain was bigger and his understanding was also greater, but so was his anger. Zach bottled it up. He'd never hit me, but he would hit others. His beautiful, healthy heart had shattered with our family. But he was my everything, all that I had left. When I was thirteen, just about old enough to survive, he dropped his burdens and ran. Maybe he went to college, or maybe he got a job, met a girl, fell in love. But he was gone and I had nothing. I wonder if he heard about me. I wonder if he heard about my death.

One year later I met you.

You were the new girl. Dark haired, cold eyed, and your skin was lighter than life should be. Both of your parents escorted you into school. I remember walking past and hearing them reprimand you. No drugs. No drinking. No parties. Nor friends, not when you have us. They left. I rounded the corner, looked you in the eye knowing that you knew what I had heard, and asked you to be my friend. It was our first act of defiance, no wonder your parents hated me. But since that day we were inseparable. We were at opposite ends of the scale, even our looks were opposite. You were dark whilst I was fair. You were loved too much whilst I was not loved at all. I went around breaking the hearts of boys, whilst you got your heart broken by girls - I was one of the many.