Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Flower Story #2

The blue caught my eye. I thought it would be perfect. It would show my sentiments, my feelings, my ego. These, flowers in colors that you would not easily forget. A reflection of my good taste.

I imagine people would stare and whisper, what a wonderful arrangement! The one who sent it must be a great lady! I would pretend not to notice, but secretly gloat. Shame on you for choosing her over me. Now everybody would know how crass she was. I bet she preferred roses and baby breath, typical of her! Red roses for passion. She stole you from me, thanks to that.

You would act like a king, strut here and there like a peacock, thinking you finally found your queen. Wrong. You could not differentiate gold and tin. You chose her, an imitation, because... look! She was so shiny. She had so many ornaments. She was so malleable.

You guys had the gall to invite me to your wedding. And by bringing along these blue orchids, I'd show you how cool I was about this whole thing.

I brushed my fingers on the petals. Velvety. Up close, the orchids enticed me to touch them. Again and again. Something in me bloomed. I did not recognize what it was at first. I kept finding myself looking and touching. Until I realized, it was hope. Hope for myself. Hope for the future.

What would I gain by attending my ex-boyfriend's wedding?  I could show them I didn't need him to be happy. What for?

No matter how beautiful and happy I looked, they would always say bad things about me. Look, he jilted her and she had the nerve to come to his wedding, poor girl, trying so hard to look fabulous.

Why should I spend tons for a new gown, shoes, bag, even fancy flowers? Who was I trying to impress? I'd rather stay at home and relax. I knew I was happy. I didn't need to prove it.

But I bought the blue orchids anyway. For they brought me joy and contentment.

10/06/2014, 23.03

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