Love, Sorrow

“You’ve done so much for me. I will never forget you. You will always matter to me. I will always love you.”

If only the words were more than fading graphite on a tear-stained page, he thought, not for the first time. It seemed they had been written so very long ago, when decisions were easy to make and no one could get in their way.

At first things had been hard. They hadn’t known how things would turn out, and they thought that things could only get better. They weren’t wrong, but they didn’t consider that once things were better, they could once again become worse.

Things did get better. Soon they were helping each other through everything they could never have made it past alone; they stood at each other’s side, thought of each other when they could not be together so that forgetting was not an option; they were so very important to each other; they loved each other as they had never loved anyone before. They realized that the words scratched on paper were true before they were even written.

And then the words were written. You’ve done so much for me. He wondered. I will never forget you. He doubted. You will always matter to me. He sighed. I will always love you. Another tear fell to the old page of notebook paper.

After another glance across the words, faded and lifeless, he set the paper carefully back where it had lain for many a day before settling down himself. It seemed amazing how his joints did not creak, how it did not hurt to sit cross-legged on the hard, wooden floor, how clearly he could think and sense the world around him; he felt so old, surely he must be arthritic, bony and senile by now. If he’d lived fewer than three decades, how could he feel so old?

Things were so hard. He didn’t know how things were going to turn out, and he wondered if things would ever get better. Perhaps he was wrong, but even so, was it worth the pain to find out?

He stood up, dragging himself from the floor to stand by the window. The sun shone cheerfully in a cloudless blue sky, and pale pink flowers grew in little pots on the sill of the window before him. Birds sang, and he knew that if his fears were true, he was the only sorrowful creature in the world. If the words on the page were as false as he feared, then even she didn’t feel any of the pain he’d lived in since things had changed.

“You’ve done so much for me,” he whispered to the little pink flowers— she loved such flowers, he knew. “We made it through a lot together… Or did we? Was it you who brought me through, dragging a deadweight behind you?”

“I will never forget you.” He fingered the soft silk petals of one delicate flower. “I never can forget you. I can’t even stop thinking about you. Do you ever think of me, the deadweight you believed was helping you?”

“You will always matter to me,” he murmured as the flower wavered under his touch. “You matter so much. I thought I knew you better than anyone in the world, but now I can’t help but wonder if that is true anymore. Perhaps I don’t know you anymore.”

“I will always love you.” He was silent after whispering the words to the flower. The little plant wavered in his vision and the world blurred. Fiercely, through the tears, he murmured again, “I will always love you.”

The beautiful, fragile pink flower snapped in his hand, petals torn and roots pulled from the dirt. “Why couldn’t you always love me?”

Author Notes: Here's another story I wrote a while back, in 2018. I tried changing some of the pronouns a few months ago, but decided I like the original version better, so here it is.

Recommend Reviews (2) Write a ReviewReport