These crowded rooms of love that's lost
And through the fire, I've loved you still
Through the fire, I've loved you still
Her fingers brushed the dusty, yellowish walls as her chocolate brown irises watched the life fading away in the almost burnt down house. Her feet made little echoes down the hallway, constantly stepping on little burnt remains. She wasn't allowed to be in here, she couldn't be in here. But her heart yearned to feel the pain and the memories that was left behind in the house. There was so much to see, but they said that it was better left unseen.
She slowly walked towards the painting in the middle of the room, which depicted of a young girl in a meadow. She had always thought of it as sad, and happy at the same time. The loneliness and the bliss that came along with it because she firmly believed that not every person who walked the earth alone is sad. She padded towards the drawers and found the dog tags in them but a watch sat among them, in the middle. She traced the message written on the watch; check the time, I love you.
It was a Saturday afternoon when he called her for a picnic in the park, he said he would bring the food and drinks. She arrived at the park, bearing a gift for him. It was their second anniversary, and she hadn't given him any gift for the first. She promised herself she would take some time off to find a perfect gift for him. There he was, sitting on the grass under the shade of a tree. He had laid out the blanket and food that included sandwiches, strawberries, chocolate biscuits and apple juice.
"I'm sorry it's too little," he apologized as she sat down in front of him. She let out a laugh, "No, it's perfect." She leaned towards him and pecked him on the lips softly. He chuckled, "Just a peck on our second anniversary? Selena, you could do much better than that." She laughed and playfully hit him on the arm. He pouted jokingly and held his arm as if her punch was the most painful thing to hit his arm.
"I need you to close your eyes," she ordered. He cocked an eyebrow at her and shrugged, obeying her. As soon as his eyelids were closed, she took out the box from her purse and wore the watch on his right wrist. She softly whispered, "Open your eyes now."
He gazed at the gift, a black watch designed with gold. His fingers brushed against the message and he looked up at her, shyly. He crashed his lips onto hers, and whispered, "Thank you, Sel. I love it and I love you."
She snapped out of her reverie as the window rattled against the sill. The wind was growing stronger and she felt the chills rising up on her arms. Her eyes were filled with tears, the room held too many memories. She couldn't bear it, she wasn't strong enough to face them on. Even after a month, she wasn't ready yet. As she walked out of the door, she turned back to see the young her tangled up in his arms and bed sheets. She could almost feel the light kisses he trailed from her ear to her collarbone, and his hand holding on tightly to the small curve of her waist. A tear fell from her eye, trailing down her cheek.
She missed him, more and more everyday.
She almost ran down the hallway, anxious to meet the front door. Her throat was raw, she was choked up in her sobs. Her chest felt like it was about to break from not being able to breathe. Her heart felt like stopping life and just lie down on the floor, dead. The ashes filled the floor, burnt from the songsheets and newspapers. But her eyes caught a paper, slight burnt at the edge, sitting on the table untouched with a ribbon holding it together gently.
She admitted that she was afraid of opening it. Afraid of seeing what was written on the paper. But she gathered up what she had left inside and untied the ribbon. Her eyes watered at the familiar writing, her heart wrenched at the feeling of loss. She felt like reaching out into the paper and take it all back. Turn back in time to re-feel everything she had felt. The bliss, the kisses, the embraces. Everything.
She was nothing but a flower to devour,
with petals dusted with innocence.
She was a flower to embrace,
with a hint of beauty,
and a smile to fall for.
But she was oblivious to the bees that fell at her command,
she was oblivious to the effect she had on the world.
She believed she was something to destroy entirely,
something that was made out of burnt ashes and nothingness.
But to me, she was nothing,
but a flower to love.
She had fallen to her knees, her hand gripping the paper tightly. Her cheeks were wet, and she could not stop crying. Her screams were silent as they were unable to rise from her throat. The solitude wasn't so happy anymore, she thought, it felt more like she was dead and barely breathing. She rocked back and forth with no one to hold her. She was broken and this time, no one was there willingly, to save and fix her. He had written it for her, he had intended to show it to her, but he never got the chance. It was all over before it even began. She had finally found the one who could love her like she loved him, but it was over. It had to be over before their love story could even begin writing. Her heart craved for the feel of him and nothing else but it could not be satisfied as he was no longer there anymore.
He was burned to ashes just like the songs he wrote for her.