Page 126 of Poetry of Flowers

The light was my girlfriend’s love.

It was never the father I needed. What I needed was to know I was worthy of love, that I was somebody.

That’s what my best friend showed me. She loved me effortlessly and with all my imperfections.

Kissing every scar to make the memories fade away, to replace them with new memories and the thought of a future with her.

Someday we were going to have a family.

Personally, I see us with each a girl and a boy in the future. Our daughter will be Elle, after Joyelle, Tillie’s mother.

What the future has still planned for us is written in the stars.

“Why don’t we have breakfast outside today?” I asked my best friend, who had her arms tucked around my waist as we leaned against our bus watching the morning clouds.

Her light-brown hair still had red streaks till this day. I was still the only person who was allowed to help her dye her hair.

“I thought we have to go to this brunch?” Tillie asked and snuggled against me.

“I would rather have breakfast here with you. Let’s tell them we already ate.”

I brushed through her hair with my hands and she nodded

“Then come on, sit down on the bench and keep your head in the clouds while I’ll go make us something delicious,” I told her, making her laugh, before she stepped on her tallest tip toes and pressed a kiss to my lips.

“I love you.”

She smiled, and we were seventeen again in the motel room right after my life changed forever, there was one thing that never changed and that was my love for her.

“You’ll love me more when I’ll come back with a croissant and bacon and eggs...”

“Mmmh, yeah, I’ll love you more then,” She grinned and walked over to the bench right next to the lake where we had set up camp.

A lake?You might wonder.

Tillie has learned to enjoy the water rather than fear it. It has taken her years, and I would have respected it if it had taken forever, but she wanted to face her fears. And she did.

Last year we visited her grandparents in France, she showed me the ocean, and we went in knee-deep. It was hard for her, but I was there every step of the way, holding her hand, ready to lift her up into the safety of my arms if needed.

The moment she had opened her eyes that day and looked down at the water, there was something peaceful in her reflection, like she forgave the water for all her pain.

Going inside our renovated bus, I walked over to the tiny chest of drawers and got out the tiny box with the ring inside.

I opened it and a gorgeous golden ring gleamed back at me. Her grandfather gave it to me last year, it had belonged to his mother. He never got a chance to propose to his wife with it because his mother wasn’t ready to pass it on. When she passed away, he had inherited it and told me he waited years to give the ring to a worthy lover of one of his granddaughters.

I was the first he could really see in his family.

The ring was open at the front, but so that it won’t fall off. A gentle white gemstone flower decorated the small leaves of diamonds.

It was perfect.

From the doorway I watched my future fiancée from behind, the sky was endless in the lake while a few ducks made their way to the other end of the shore.

It was the perfect place.

My heart hammered in my chest, and I believed I had never been this nervous before as I made my way towards her.

“Are we out of eggs again?” she asked chuckling when she noticed my presence, her eyes continued to watch the baby ducks swimming behind their mother.

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