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

Flower Story #1

Everyday, a guy from a faraway land takes pictures for her. Sometimes it's the blue, blue sky, with a hint of white. "If you were here, the sky would be crimson for they would blush seeing a lady like you." Sometimes it's a cup of cappuccino. "I wish we could share this one. It would taste sweeter, I am sure." And sometimes, a book. "Have you read this one? If you haven't, would you please read it too, so I can pretend I am reading with you?"

He takes pictures of flowers, too. Lilies so white that they dazzle underneath the sunshine. Orchids so colorful that they almost hurt your eyes. And when in season, sakura, ranging from pure white to pink. No captions. She supposes that he thinks the pictures are self-explanatory.

Everyday, she wonders what kind of pictures that he is going to send. Everyday, her feelings grow, bigger and bigger.

Her smartphone emits a jazzy tune, denoting an email has arrived. She sits on the bench on the park.Oh, he is sending another picture.

It brings a smile to her face. What are they---roses?---with petals in shades of pink and fuchsia. They look so real. As if she could pluck them anytime.

But hey... they do look familiar. She frowns. She is sure she has seen the flowers before. But where? Realization dawns. Ah! Over... there!

And there, in the entrance of the park, she sees the pink flowers. And the man who has been sending her many pictures. He just stands there, with love and longing in his eyes. His hands are open wide.

What choice does she have but to run straight into his arms?

21.37, June 8, 2014