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About a year ago, you had given me a drawing. It was a very lovely drawing, and it seemed like a self-portrait of yourself, except she had different color tones, and she was placed in a different place that I had never seen before. It was in a forest, a forest of tall oaks, and short fat ones, and a field of strangely colored tulips and alstroemeria and geraniums. The wind was blowing to the left, and her eyes were closed slightly into a mature look of understanding. Underneath her lids were bright green eyes, unlike your blue. Her dress was the pure color of white, shadowed and highlighted with blue and yellow. Hair was blowing in her face, in which a small delicate hand was shielding from the stand of black. Your hair is blond. The girl was holding a single lilac, colored a stunning purple. She seemed very happy, with a open mouth smile.
I still believe it’s very lovely.
I showed your drawing to one of the guys I knew at work. He had simply looked at it. When he handed it back, he had said nothing to critique it, but he said say one thing: “She has the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen.” I didn’t quite understand, and he wasn’t really willing to explain. So I took your drawing, and showed it to two customers who I knew well. The pair had just looked at it, and one told me that she loved the meaning of the flowers - tulip meant love in several forms, alstroemeria meant promise, and geraniums meant comfort. She was a florist, and she also commented on the colors; their colors were usually the complete opposite. The other just said, after taking a sip of vodka, that her smile wasn’t real. I simply kept the drawing with me the rest of the night.
Eventually, I put the drawing into my wallet, and every time I opened it, someone would point it out, and say, “That’s a lovely drawing, Sir. Is she your wife?” And everytime, I would answer no. she’s a friend. They would always give me this look, and would simply smile.
I tried to ask you about the drawing once. We were at a bar, and you were sitting alone with a sketch pad. When I had questioned you about what you were drawing right then, you just replied, “I don‘t know.” I didn’t know what you meant. So I I then asked, “Why did you colors the flowers wrong?” You just replied, “I don’t know.” You never once looked me in the eye, but you did look very mature.
I eventually took the drawing out, and I placed it on my coffee table. When friends came over, they would look at it, and ask, “Who’s this?” and I would say, “No one.” But still, they would tell me, “She looks like she’s in love,” everytime they came over. We would drink beer, and yet, they couldn’t stop looking at it.
A few weeks ago, I put the drawing away. It was faded, and the color was barely there anymore. I decided to ask you for another one. So I did, and you did draw me one more. It’s a very lovely drawing. She was by a moonlit river, sitting on the bank. Her feet were in the water. She looked exactly the same as the girl in the other drawing. There were even the same flowers, and she was still holding the same one. But now her eyes were wide open, staring into space, and keeping that same lilac close. The oaks and the field were much thinner, and you would see the stars behind them and around them. You could see a falling star in the reflection of those green eyes. The effect reminded me of falling snow: calming.
I showed your drawing to the same people. My co-worker told me, “She looks pretty, but why is she crying?” I had said that she wasn’t, but he insisted she was. I didn’t understand, but I went on to asking the pair of customers out of pure curiousity. The florist told me that the colors were still wrong. I had told her that I had mentioned it to you, and then she had just smiled, and said, “Maybe she’s trying to tell you something? A wish, perhaps?” The other had replied, “Looks like she’s waiting for something,” and had then taken another sip of whiskey.
A few days ago, I had asked you why you never told me the meaning of those flowers. We were sitting in a café. It was winter, and it was cold. You had been staring out into the park, the sight of falling snow in your eyes. You just replied, “I don’t know.” You had then stood up, and walked out.
You left behind a drawing of a daffodil. It is very lovely.
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I’ve always been fond of daffodils. They mean unrequited love.
A daffodil also represent my favorite caouple in Naruto XD
 Ukeire · Tue Jun 23, 2009 @ 06:01am · 0 Comments |
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