Sunlight pierced through treetops shading the edge of the field where little white flowers grew and warm, itchy grass tickled my bare legs. Your faint melodies played in the background. Purple and blue azaleas and hydrangeas danced around us. I picked all little white flowers and gave them to you. I loved being outside; you loved your music. I dreamt of this often, until you left your music and me along with it.
One night I ran to you desperately-
I want to kill myself.
And you condescendingly demanded to know why
As if I wasn’t allowed to feel that way. But why didn’t you know it was because you stopped loving me? I was bleeding moonlight waiting for brightness to once again penetrate my veins but it didn’t.
Fingers glide effortlessly on the guitar strings, no music sheets, no notes or teacher in front of you, just the song playing on an endless loop, sliding over your piano keys as you teach yourself to play. Every day, letting me watch and learn songs that would soon become my favorites. Lost in a moment, now lost in the memories.
I opened the door and at the stoop were wilted white carnations. You knew lilies were my favorite. A small card attached to the vase. “I’m sorry.” I dumped the contents of the vase on the sidewalk and went inside. I’ll make my own sunlight without you.