A Flower's Little Warrior

It starts with a Letter R... Rasure.

I.

What am I going to tell him again? Uggh. I hate this.

I don’t even remember how long I have known Rankyn. He was actually one of the best people I know. Yet no one sees that, he’s one of those people you wouldn’t notice in the smallest crowd you can see. Yet his heart is so precious. He’s so genuine and most people don’t see that, because he’s too reserved. They mistakenly assume his gentle face meant a weakness of his inner man, yet they don’t even have a glimpse of his exceptional soul. He’s so cool. At least for me, but he’s the coolest country guy ever.

He laughs really hard all the time—which uplifts me a lot. He has all these stories which I always enjoy listening to and he is very clever too—even silly sometimes—knowing like every single thing to make me happy. He knows how to play the violin too, how cool is that! I find it awkward at first knowing someone from the farm who knows how to play the violin and sing really well. haha but probably that’s one those things which make him strangely different—he’s a farm guy who’s smart and graceful—even behaves like he’s raised up somewhere luxurious.

He's also very strong, he could stop a horse from running by his arms, I saw him once and I was really amazed! how in the world could he do that? he runs so fast too and jumps so high, I noticed that whenever he tries to chase me or something, I never win, but at least I can hide from him--which rarely happens because he always knows where I am.

Most of the time, I admire the way he thinks, the way he sees and the way he feels. There’s something about him which I don’t fathom yet I like so dearly, as a friend of course, as a person—I could’ve just imagined, he would be an awesome brother, yet he is definitely good as being my friend.

Mom introduced him to me few years back when we just moved here in this town. He is the son of her childhood best friend. He had been one of my best friends too since then. I just recovered from an accident I had that time—well I don’t really remember what I’ve been through though—the doctor told me it was my brain’s choice, a trauma. I didn’t remember anything that happened to me because it won’t be good for me if I do. and, since we’ve moved here, he and his family is always there for me and my mom, since there’s only two of us who moved here so I can recover faster, my father and my siblings are left in the bitter heart of the city. He has been the most understanding person I know, tolerating even the worst forgetfulness I carry and courageously staying beside me when I get really frantic.

But I feel bad about him. I always knew he liked me, he told me once, but I never felt the same for him. I feel bad every time I accept his efforts for me, or when I see how sincere he is, though he won’t demand anything back. I don’t want him hoping that I would love him someday if he would persevere to win my heart. He’s just too precious that I don’t have any right to break his heart like this.

And here he goes again. I know he already knew that we can never be more than friends. Not because he’s not likable or anything, but because…  ughh. I can’t tell why. My mind is just not into that right now. He is downstairs, asking my mom if I was okay, because I frequently had some sore tonsillitis so I can’t talk—a good reason not to see him, at least. He is so concerned, because I was a weakly duckling always needing a warrior, which he assumes is his role in my life, as what his name meant, “Little warrior”. I find him funny whenever he does that, saying “here I am your little warrior, Little but definitely subtle!” it’s funny whenever he punches the air and pretends like he’s going to fly, then putting hands in his waist like he’s superman. But what I find funnier is he calls himself subtle, which is quite strange, probably because he just wanted them to rhyme.

Well, he is subtle. I mean subtle—delicate like he is too critical about life, too certain that he makes his point, and that he is making sure he does what needs to be done and he gets what he wants, in a good way. He is also subtle because he is so mysterious. He always tells me my soul is such a mystery that he would love to explore, but I find his more cunning. He seem to always know what has to happen in every situation, at least when he is with me. There was this time he got up really early and went in front of the gate of my university, waiting for me to get down from the bus. It was during my first year in this school I transferred to—note that he walked in the first day of the winter term, snowing like a storm so hard—he brought me mittens, because he said he knew I’d need them, my hands would be cold and hurt. He left right away and I didn’t really think he’s right so I didn’t wear it right away, but after some few steps my hands felt like burning in cold—it was my first winter in this place and I never knew it was this cold here, or maybe I just forgot I am weak at cold, and I don’t really think I like wearing mittens. But I appreciate that, I never told him I did, but that was really kind. But still awkward somehow—how could he know I’d be cold? Haha but probably it’s just because he knew where I came from never get as much cold as they have in here.

And yeah there he is downstairs; he brought me some homemade chocolate “tabliya” as they call it. I love it, honestly, it tastes like heaven and it makes me feel really well even if I’m sick—but I have sore throat. Hmm, I’m actually fine now, but…uggh. I don’t want to talk to him… I don’t want to see him right now. I don’t want to give him as much opportunities to serve me, because I don’t want him to invest his heart to somewhere he won’t earn anything, or even worse, would lose it.

So I guess I’ll just pretend I’m asleep. That would work—I have never done that before so I guess he wouldn’t think I am making up my reasons again. I knew he’d somehow notice that I’m avoiding him, but this is just for now, just wanted to be by myself.