Marigolds And Green Lights

I never thought that I would be here beside you, not like this. I still think about the day you and I first met often. Both of us were standing in line waiting to file for our passports. You stood in front of me wearing a blue sundress that day. One littered with tiny designs of your favorite flower, the marigold. Your shadowy black hair nearly whipping me in the face as you spun around abruptly to face me while we waited.

You began telling me how you had always dreamed of traveling. That for you, traveling was one of your single most important goals. To see the wonders of the world, no matter how small they seemed, that’s what you wanted to accomplish. You spoke of wanting to travel to Egypt, Italy, and Tokyo. Places I too had always dreamed of visiting.

While we waited in line for what felt like forever we continued chatting about the possibility of actually reaching all those destinations. Jokingly, you offered to be my travel partner and I yours. I agreed, but I never truly believed then that either of us would follow through on those plans. Nor did I think that we would see each other again after that day. Though I had hoped that you and I would meet again.

As fate would have it, we did. One weeks later I saw you again at a coffee shop where I finally found the courage to ask you for your number. After a dozen dates and lots of planning that year, you and I finally got to visit the pyramids of Egypt and we also saw the glories of Italy. During our travels we got to see a sliver of the magic that the world had to offer us, we were always in search of more.

It’s amazing how back then I barely even knew you, you were just some overly talkative stranger I had got stuck in line with, but luckily so. Even though I didn’t know you, that day I had begun to wish for the world to bestow every wonder it held and more upon those dazzling brown eyes you were gifted. I was blessed to have experienced them with you.

In that one chance encounter, you drew me into your soul. My heart was sold on you. From the soft soothing voice of yours that sung to me like a lullaby. To your radiant smile that lit up your face and warmed my heart, as if it were the sun itself beaming down on us.

But now here we are: our wings clipped, my dried-up tears clinging to my face while you lay lifeless in this hospital bed. Confined to this cold sterile room unable to fly, chained down by tubes and wires. Me sitting next to you, clenching at your hospital gown while attentively watching the green lights on the machines that you’re hooked up to. Green lights on cold machines, the only indicators that tell me you’re still alive, still fighting. I know you’re a fighter, so I know you’ll hang on as long as you can.

And so you did. You hung on for as long as you could, but eventually the inevitable happened. After two long years you ultimately ended up losing your battle. However, you put up one hell of a fight, like always.

On year later here we are: my head resting firmly against your gravestone, while your spirit flies high. I’m longing for the day when we can fly together again. Until then I’m flying solo. I know I can’t stay here with you any longer. I know you wouldn’t want that for me. So I’ve booked a flight, tomorrow I’m flying again for the first time in three years. Next stop, Tokyo. There’s still a world full of wonders to explore out there and when we meet again, we can both share our journeys. Until then, maybe I’ll catch a glimpse of you in the clouds.