She got yellow roses for him, wondering if he’d take them. Yellow; it represents the bond of friendship, the connection between two people, with similar souls and different bodies. Was this not the concept of soulmates?
She had wondered on different occasions if he was, infact, her soulmate. Fantasising about eternal love was what kept her up at night, it was that which taught her to forgive him; even when he’d upset her the most. When she’d see him with other girls—dancing to the song that she hoped they’d dance to, her waist aching for his gentle and safe touch; which was given to them.
“I’ll lose him if I don’t tell him,” she thought to herself. “You’ll lose him either way, sweetheart” whispered the pessimistic organ in her head. There she set out, wearing her best dress and the yellow roses in her hands. She knocked aggressively just as the heart inside her ribcage. Her eyes recognised him as one, she held out the roses and without any hesitation; “I love you.”
And there he stood, awestruck. It was as if he’d seen his mother die for the second time; the look she remembered way too well. He couldn’t manage to say the words but his eyes told every single emotion he was feeling, she had known him all her life. “I-I… I,”
And in that moment, she knew she had gotten her answer. It was as if, someone had her voodoo doll in their hand and sticking needles into her heart. The pain was uncontrollable, she had forgotten to breath. The sweet and salty mid summer rain fell on her face, as she grew blue by the second. She had forgotten to breathe, she didn’t have the will to take in the oxygen and the fresh earthy smell.
“This was supposed to be my time!” She cried out to the skies above; they raged with lightning, signifying their mourning for her unrequited love. Those precious yellow roses, that she bought with all the love that was beating in her heart, are now withered in the midsummer rain—along with her newly damaged heart.
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