Does dead roses smell like tea leaves?
My first real rose and instead of blooming in red splendour, it's dead and flat. Flat due to the how many years of being squashed inbetween his coursebook.
I find myself watching his graduation video over and over again. Giggling at his goofy walk.
I find myself reading his letters, running my hand across the paper knowing that his hand once touched that. Holding it to my nose, in hoping to catch a whiff of his scent.
I find myself behaving like a 11 year old with her 1st love. The purple scrunchie, the lock of hair, the many of pictures, the tracing of his hand, the penmanship of love.
To others this might mean a small thing. but the fact that it arrived after months of waiting brings a sort of personal achievement for me. However bittersweet it was. Let me bask in the moment before it ends.
Sometimes life is like the movies after all.