petals on our lips |

4

Two cold November days had passed now.

I watched from the window, a beautiful park.

One with many trees whose leaves had turned an autumn red.

I followed as the leaves gracefully fell from the trees to the ground.

It was lovely to watch.

It was something I was using to get my mind off of her.

I was again sitting down in a plastic seat in the same hospital waiting for news on the surgery.

It had been more than twelve hours and still, I hadn't gotten a word about her state.

Nothing to tell me if the surgery had already been done.

I turned away from the window of the second-level waiting room and felt my leg begin to bounce slightly.

I looked down the hall and stood up immediately seeing the doctor making his way to me.

I barely let him talk when I bombarded him with questions about her and the surgery's hopeful success.

He gave me a sad smile yet told me she was well and resting at the moment.

I felt an immense weight lifted off my shoulders.

Maybe it was the guilt and pain.

Hearing the words from the doctor brought me relief.

I wanted to see her now.

I ran to her room almost immediately.

Walking up to the door I brought it open quickly and saw her.

Again she was resting.

I smiled softly and took my seat.

Hour after hour passed and her body stayed in the same state.

Even so, leaving wasn't an option for me.

I needed to see her open her eyes to truly see that she was okay.

My sleep-deprived body urged me to rest, still, I looked at her and waited.

The sun peaked through the curtains telling us that it was a new day.

I hadn't gotten any rest.

I couldn't, not when she was in that state.

As if she heard me say her name in my thoughts, she moved.

Softly she stirred in bed and quietly yawned out.

I jumped and walked up to her.

Tears filled my eyes and I grabbed her hand softly.

With a quiet voice, I asked her how she was.

Not knowing what damage I had now created.

If I had known what she had known about the surgery and what it would do to us in the future maybe I would have never convinced her to do it.

Because the second she took her hand out of my grasp I knew something was wrong.

This wasn't the friend I knew.

Not answering what I had asked her she spoke in a cold voice and told me to leave.

She looked away from me and told me I made her feel uncomfortable.

It felt like a jab in my chest.

It was painful hearing the person who had told me just days ago that she loved me that I made her uncomfortable.

I dropped my head low in exhaustion and hurt by her words yet didn't ask her anything more.

Walking to the seat I took my things and closed the door behind me.

Almost as if he had been waiting for me the doctor greeted me outside the hall.

I bowed lightly but stopped him as he started to walk off.

I took a breath and told him of her actions.

I confessed that I had been the start of this mess.

Without a second to waste, I asked him if the surgery had something to do with her behavior.

I felt the hope of him saying no, leave me when he sighed and shook his head lightly.

It felt as if something had knocked the air out of my body when I first heard his words.

He let out an exhale from his nose preparing to speak.

He looked up at me and said,

"Miss Suzuki, the moment those roses were removed from her lungs those feelings of love were removed just as well."