Bloom

Two

It had been seven months since Owen passed away.
The pain I felt never seemed to go away, but I managed.
I grab my camera, and place it around my neck before grabbing my keys and heading out.
The first month after he passed I barely left our house. I ignored phone calls and everyone. I just laid in our bed, curled up wearing his favorite hoodie.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror in the hall. My blonde hair hung loosely around my shoulders, my hazel eyes were sad. I was wearing Owens hoodie, the scent of him clung to it. My camera Owen had bought me two years ago hung around my neck.
When he had bought it he said it was because I was so talented in photography. He had accidentally broken my last camera, I remember being so mad at him about.
Guilt hung over me.
I turn away from the mirror and head out to my car.
After going anti for a while, my mother had gotten worried and forced me to attend grief counseling.
At first I refused, saying I didn't need it.
She had said just give it a try, and so I did. The first day I attended I didn't speak to anyone. I definitely didn't speak about Owen.
I just sat there and listened. Listened to other people's losses, and it seemed to make me feel a little better. To hear what others felt made me realize how sad I did.

George greeted me as I walked in, he was a sweet old man who had lost his wife to cancer.
"How're you doing Lillie?" He asked.

I plaster the fake smile on my face as I always did,
"I'm okay, how're you George?" I replied.

"Same here." He says
I nod at him and take a seat in the circle. Familiar faces looked back at me, but one face stuck out this time.
He was around my age, maybe late twenty's. From what I could see he had dark black wavy hair. He was looking down at his hands, his head snapping up suddenly.
Bright blue eyes stare into my hazel ones.
My breath catches in my throat slightly, and I find myself fiddling with my camera nervously.
He was handsome, that was for sure.
A slight shadow lined his defined jaw, and I find it a bit difficult to tear my eyes away but I do.
"Good afternoon everyone." Wyatt, the grief counselor greets us as he takes a seat.

"We have a new face today, Tobias why don't you start off?" Wyatt says kindly.
The same man I had been staring at suddenly clears his throat before speaking.
"Hello everyone, my name is Tobias but I go by Dene." He starts, his voice deep.
A chorus of "welcome" and "hello" is said.

"Welcome Dene, why're you here?" Wyatt states.
Dene clears his throat again,
"I'm here because I lost my younger sister to suicide three years ago." He says.
My heart falls to my feet and clenches painfully.
Suicide echos in my ears and I close my eyes briefly. When I open them I see Dene staring at me curiously.
A chorus of "I'm sorry for your loss" echos out and Wyatt moves on to the next person and the rotation goes like that for a minute.

Rachel is a woman in her thirty's, who lost her six year old daughter from a hit and run. George lost his wife to cancer four years ago. Wyatt, our grief counselor lost his wife in child birth eight years ago. And it goes on and on until it finally reaches me.

My fingers twitch nervously, playing with the strap on my camera.
"Hi everyone, my name is Lillie. I'm here because I lost my boyfriend seven months ago." I say softly. The pain still fresh in my mind.
I can't bring myself to speak on how, and thankfully nobody asks. Wyatt continues to the next person.
I take a deep breath and glance across the room to Dene, his blue eyes seem to be watching me. Curiosity glows in them.
My lip twitches in annoyance.
This was going to be one hell of a night.

Picture of Dene above^
I see him as a young Orlando Bloom just with blue eyes.