Valentine's Day
I
Everything I see is brown and still. Except for the wind lending its helping hand there is no movement. Everything I am staring at with tears freezing themselves into my skin is still, brown; everything I see is dead.
“It’s not really all dead, you know. It’s just, asleep. It has to rest for a good little while before it can become beautiful again when the time and sunshine come. We have to do that sometimes; hide away and wait to become beautiful.”
The wind’s hand sweeps through the dried grass, brown and flat sleeping grass, rustling and cutting through silent air beneath my feet. I stare down, at my white shoes gleaming in a place they should be blending into. The snow had melted a month ago, with the New Year.
Without it, everything was so bare.
The indigo water rippled, broken free from its icy blanket that disappeared beneath the sun. My eyes stared into its depths, murky and dark, an abyss of water only twenty feet deep. I took in its contrasting colour against the lighter blue sky, the clouds standing still amongst the blue. I stared at my reflection, bright and crisp, the bleached white dress, pale as a bone, striking the water as if with an open palm. I stared until the wind whipped tears from my eyes, whipped the balloon tied to my wrist around me. Its bright red plastic was the only colour besides dull browns, blues, and grays for miles around. I stared through the mirror beneath me as it tried to fly away.
“I can’t think of anything or anyone that looks like you. The way your eyes shine like gold in the sunlight but then like the darkest diamond from the moon. I can’t stand the way you stare at me when you’re scared, because everything you’ve ever been hurt by pools like an ocean in your eyes. Your heart is so red and vibrant and scared. It’s brighter than the brightest red balloon in the entire world.”
The balloon danced with and against the wind, its sides gleaming in the rays of sunlight. The heart of the sky, that’s what it seemed like as it twirled and jumped through the air around me, only limited by the string connecting it to my wrist.
“If you want to fly, learn how to. That’s how little baby birds do it. They just jump and copy their mom and dad. If you want to get away, by running, flying, whatever, just do it and take pointers from the ones you look up to. It’ll work every time.”
The wind whipped through the bare branches of the trees perched in the sky, shaking and swaying with the rhythm of the balloon. Voices echoed through the park. It was getting near noon, people were coming through, couples. They came through to reminisce on the days before today, the past years’ Valentine’s Days’. I stared at the joined hands, lips, eyes. I remembered having my hands in another’s and lips pressed against his. I stood and stared and remembered.
“This is our park, remember that. We own this. In the nighttime, the daytime, we own these trees and flowers and every puddle every little kid runs through. We own this lake, this is our lake. This is our home.”
Birds filled the air, their wings drowning out the sound of the wind and the laughter and footsteps echoing around me. I watched as they flew across, watched the balloon, the heart of the sky, float in their direction.
I slipped off my shoes, staring into the murky mirror. The string around my wrist loosened itself and I stepped off the cement bank. I stayed walking to where my feet could no longer touch the ground, and then I jumped.
The balloon floated into the sky, twirling within the clouds and breeze.
It was the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes.
“We’ll sit here forever; we’ll build a house here, where every window will have a view of this park. I’ll stay with you forever; we won’t ever fall apart, never. I love you so much. I won’t ever leave you, if I do, I’ll come back. I’ll come back through this pond; I’ll take your hand and hold you in my arms again. We’ll be together again. We’ll be in love.”
“It’s not really all dead, you know. It’s just, asleep. It has to rest for a good little while before it can become beautiful again when the time and sunshine come. We have to do that sometimes; hide away and wait to become beautiful.”
The wind’s hand sweeps through the dried grass, brown and flat sleeping grass, rustling and cutting through silent air beneath my feet. I stare down, at my white shoes gleaming in a place they should be blending into. The snow had melted a month ago, with the New Year.
Without it, everything was so bare.
The indigo water rippled, broken free from its icy blanket that disappeared beneath the sun. My eyes stared into its depths, murky and dark, an abyss of water only twenty feet deep. I took in its contrasting colour against the lighter blue sky, the clouds standing still amongst the blue. I stared at my reflection, bright and crisp, the bleached white dress, pale as a bone, striking the water as if with an open palm. I stared until the wind whipped tears from my eyes, whipped the balloon tied to my wrist around me. Its bright red plastic was the only colour besides dull browns, blues, and grays for miles around. I stared through the mirror beneath me as it tried to fly away.
“I can’t think of anything or anyone that looks like you. The way your eyes shine like gold in the sunlight but then like the darkest diamond from the moon. I can’t stand the way you stare at me when you’re scared, because everything you’ve ever been hurt by pools like an ocean in your eyes. Your heart is so red and vibrant and scared. It’s brighter than the brightest red balloon in the entire world.”
The balloon danced with and against the wind, its sides gleaming in the rays of sunlight. The heart of the sky, that’s what it seemed like as it twirled and jumped through the air around me, only limited by the string connecting it to my wrist.
“If you want to fly, learn how to. That’s how little baby birds do it. They just jump and copy their mom and dad. If you want to get away, by running, flying, whatever, just do it and take pointers from the ones you look up to. It’ll work every time.”
The wind whipped through the bare branches of the trees perched in the sky, shaking and swaying with the rhythm of the balloon. Voices echoed through the park. It was getting near noon, people were coming through, couples. They came through to reminisce on the days before today, the past years’ Valentine’s Days’. I stared at the joined hands, lips, eyes. I remembered having my hands in another’s and lips pressed against his. I stood and stared and remembered.
“This is our park, remember that. We own this. In the nighttime, the daytime, we own these trees and flowers and every puddle every little kid runs through. We own this lake, this is our lake. This is our home.”
Birds filled the air, their wings drowning out the sound of the wind and the laughter and footsteps echoing around me. I watched as they flew across, watched the balloon, the heart of the sky, float in their direction.
I slipped off my shoes, staring into the murky mirror. The string around my wrist loosened itself and I stepped off the cement bank. I stayed walking to where my feet could no longer touch the ground, and then I jumped.
The balloon floated into the sky, twirling within the clouds and breeze.
It was the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes.
“We’ll sit here forever; we’ll build a house here, where every window will have a view of this park. I’ll stay with you forever; we won’t ever fall apart, never. I love you so much. I won’t ever leave you, if I do, I’ll come back. I’ll come back through this pond; I’ll take your hand and hold you in my arms again. We’ll be together again. We’ll be in love.”