4 - Dandelions

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"...Dandelion, into the wind you go
Won't you let my darling know? " - Dandelions by Ruth B

Dandelion, into the wind you goWon't you let my darling know? " - Dandelions by Ruth B

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Tuesday, April 30th, 2013

11:12 PM

Spring was my favorite season of the year. The weather was mild; the flowers were lively, and rain was good for the soul. Besides, I was born on a rainy spring day so, I was merited to love Spring. My grandma Esther, my mom's mom, was a doula and she helped deliver me. She said I was the most peaceful baby she had ever seen. Maybe that was why I was her favorite. She said so herself that time we went to Louisiana for my grandpa's funeral. She discretely slid me the secret recipe for her legendary Gumbo and whispered, you're my favorite grandchild, to my ear. She would be so disappointed to know my disdain for cooking and the kitchen, in general. Rest her soul.

I was on SoundCloud, listening to the new song Noah had sent me when my phone rang with an incoming FaceTime call. Despite my love for Spring, I was severely allergic to pollen. I had dealt with seasonal allergies all my life but never learned to handle them gracefully. I always looked like a zombie.

He was warranted to burst out laughing when the call connected because I was wiping my nose aggressively and stifling a sneeze. He quickly fixed his face and said, "What happened to you?" in a honied tone. His smile was still intact, but he sounded worried. Noah thought I was the funniest person in the world when I was sick and sleepy. "You're the cutest thing when you're sick." He would tease. He said I got bratty and spoiled and whiney, and he got a kick out of it. I frowned and gave him a disapproving look.

"Oh, no. What is it?" He cooed.

"Al-" the sneeze I had been holding hostage broke free, "Allergies." I finished.

"Bless you!" He chuckled.

"Thanks. How did it go?" I asked as I rubbed my hands over my face.

It was the day Zach was supposed to start his new job at their office officially. They were going to spend the whole day in the same vicinity, and he was dreading going to work that morning. I had sent him a couple of inspirational quotes from the ones I had saved on my Pinterest board for a rainy day, and he had replied to all of them with a "thumb down" emoji. We had texted throughout the day, and his eyes were already telling me what I needed to know, but I wanted to hear it all from his mouth.

He exhaled loudly and laid back down on his bed, angling his phone above his eyes. Noah was attractive, to put it lightly. He was tall and fit, with just enough muscles decorating his body. He had medium-length twists, with a mid-fade around the sides and the back of his head. His dark skin was ever-glowing; like it absorbed all the sun in the world and converted it to glitter. His puffy lips were always moisturized and ready to be swept by his darting pink tongue. Everything about him was celestial, and his face was his winning card.

But nothing compared to his light brown eyes. They were so picturesque; so formidable. They made you forget which galaxy you were in. They were so expressive; they had a language of their own. If he were to stop speaking and start communicating with just his eyes, people would fall in love with him left and right. His sclera, as white as snow, juxtaposed his brown iris and dark pupil, creating the most beautiful constellation. With a lone freckle standing loud and proud on the white part, competing with his iris for attention, his right eye was especially my favorite. It looked stellar.

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