Jackpot

Hanahaki

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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.