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It happened again last night. It burned a little, this time. I can't remember the last time I felt normal. I can't remember the last time I had my friends around, my family, or even her. As the thought of her came to my head I felt my throat clog up, ready to spew peonies all over the floor.
And that's exactly what happened.
Peonies had never looked so beautiful and yet so lethal to me. Warm tears began to stream down my face, ultimately making me cry harder as the flowers slipped past my lips and landed on my wooden floors. I hardly closed my eyes anymore when I threw up; I didn't want to miss the beauty within me seep through.
Once I was done I just looked at the mess I made. It reminded me of that time I went to my friend's house. We were having so much fun, it was great. I had finally felt like I was going back to normal, that maybe the peonies could rest and let me breathe. Then someone, a friend I was acquainted with, brought her back up into my life. "Did you hear?" He'd say. And I did hear. She would text me, and I would text her. It seemed really simple, but it certainly didn't feel like it. I was amazed at how this came to be. But at that moment, this acquaintance noticed something and said "You have a flower petal on your lip?" And I touched it tenderly, not wanting to ruin the visual pleasure. I excused myself and went to the bathroom in time. Then I left without saying goodbye.
I rubbed my face at the memory. It was awful. And suddenly my phone dinged. I knew who it was. No one would message me anymore after me being on edge all the time, no one but her, because she needed a friend.
'Tell me a joke~'
I felt my fingers tap on the small keys of the keyboard without any hesitation.
What's heavy forwards and not backwards?
Ton
I imagined her laughing. I imagined the way her eyes created crescent moons, the way her hand would fly to her mouth in attempts to hide that pretty smile of hers. I was happy when I thought of her happy. Vise versa when she no longer felt that sense of happy.
Sometimes I really miss you.
I wanted to type back. I didn't. I couldn't tell her that I missed her, too, because I knew she didn't mean it the same way I did.
Peonies.
This was the second time this morning for these flowers to pay me a visit. I felt them fly around my stomach to my throat. The fragrance they left behind filled my nostrils with pleasure, yet they only strengthen my remembrance of her again. Harder spews of peonies. I wasn't near the bathroom again, this time. I hadn't bother cleaning up the first pile I released this morning. I almost felt it pointless to dispose of them at this point. Why get rid of them when they'd find their way back to the same spots?
I gripped my sides hard, my nails digging into my flesh beneath my shirt. This time is was the kitchen. I had the foolish thought that maybe I'd be able to eat, despite the flowers inside always making me have the false assumption of being full. I opened my eyes to see them fall. It was more forceful than delicate this time.
When I finished, sweat lining my forehead, I noticed something different about this batch of flowers. I picked one up. Wilted. It wasn't as lively as the others.
I did myself a courtesy and brushed the peonies off the counter and onto the floor. I'll clean later, I'd tell myself. I made my way to my room. I often thought that if I were asleep then the peonies wouldn't visit. However, lately it seems that's the easiest place for them to come; when I dream of her and everything I found luxurious about her. It made me wonder something and I immediately felt myself type something and hit send before I realized what I'd done.
Why did we break up?
I almost felt immediate regret. I knew why, but it didn't make sense sometimes. I thought I was doing my best, but she didn't see it that way. I'd work a lot, so much work, so much and I wouldn't be able to see her when she wanted. She wanted me to meet her friend and I said I would, but then I'd cancel last minute when I found out something needed to be done at work. She wasn't ungrateful, she knew I was working so much to help afford the luxuries I wanted us to keep. Like that necklace I bought her when I cancelled her plans and said we could hang out at my home together instead. It was usually when I felt like I didn't want to see the world when she was inconvenienced by me.
We shouldn't bring up the past..
Just tell me. I know I wasn't the best person in the world, but why?
You never cared for me.
Maybe she was right. Maybe she really thought I didn't care. I would avoid her so much, it felt like she was dating a ghost. Her friends would ask about me and she'd have no answers to deliver. She didn't know my middle name, she didn't know my favorite colors, she didn't know why I cancelled so many times when I wanted to be by myself and at home. I couldn't blame her. Even if I had a good reason to, I could never blame her.
You didn't exactly put effort in, either.. I don't think we were right for each other.
What if we are now?
What do you mean???
We're different people now. I love you so much, I never stopp|
We're different people now. I love|
We're diff|
Nothing, just thinking.
I turned my phone off and threw it under my pillow. I turned on the tv to anything, as long as I stopped thinking about her.
I felt my throat swelling. I couldn't breathe correctly. It was the peonies. I coughed hard and a wilted petal landed in my lap. Man, did I love her. Maybe I was too selfish. Maybe we really weren't the right people for each other. I fooled myself into thinking I'd be able to give her what she deserved. Instead I left her out to dry, it was like I was in a relationship for the status; I didn't even bother to call her up occasionally and tell her how much I loved her. I just told her that I was working, or I'd say "maybe another time". She was always out with what's-his-name instead. I should've realized what would've happened if I kept avoiding her and let another guy come into our lives.
I got up to walk to the bathroom, shuffling through previous flower piles. Instead of going into the bathroom, I leaned against the door. I was burning up. My throat felt like someone stuck a cork in it, because it was almost impossible to get an easy breath.
I felt my legs sludge through air as I made my way to the front door of my apartment. I walked down the hall, leaving my door wide open behind me. Petals were slipping out the sides of my mouth and into my hands with every cough. I made it outside when I realized I was barefoot in the snow. I coughed harder.
I trudged through the snow, catching people take glimpses at me. I didn't have a sweater or shoes, only what I woke up in. I knew where my feet were taking me, and I didn't want to go against them. They said there's only two cures for this, and I didn't want to force either one. But, man, was I in love with her.
My throat was burning, and I couldn't breathe. I stopped in my tracks to hunch over and cough. People kept walking as the peonies spewed harsher than ever. A young woman came up to me and asked if I needed an ambulance. I reluctantly nodded as tears poured down my face again. The cold stinging me at the wet marks left behind on my face.
The young woman was about to call out for help when I grabbed her wrist forcefully. Between the harsh coughs and flowers erupting, I told her to go down to a house a couple blocks away and get a woman that lived there. The young woman looked unsure but I kept begging and she did. She left in a hurry and I smiled before throwing up again. My vision went darker, slowly, slowly.
There weren't many things I was good at. I couldn't open jars that were shut right. I couldn't accomplish any physics tasks. I couldn't order my food at a restaurant properly. And I couldn't keep her happy. I was no longer upset that she left me when I was a terrible person. But what I was good at was remembering her favorite meal. I remembered the way her nose pinched whenever she wanted me to know she was uncomfortable at a gathering. I remembered how she loved to make pancakes with raspberries in the mornings when the weather was cold just like now. I remembered how much I loved her, oh man, I loved her too much to stay away. And most of all, I remembered her favorite flower: peonies.
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