The Flower and the Hummingbird

This is a tale of a flower who learned of love on a cold day of Spring.

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The garden housed an abundance of flowers of every variety and species, from every size, shape, and color. Amid this multicolored flora sea, a young pink-petaled flower lived peacefully. Coy and pure, she relished the touch of the sun and treasured looking up to admire the boundless blue from the vast sky.

She was also greatly intrigued by the relationship between her yellow-petaled neighbor and a bee. Day in and day out, the bee used to visit her friend and spend some time on her disk floret before flying away. Her neighbor seemed to ache for the bee's return and revel in its company.

She could never understand the nature of such behavior. Or so she thought.

An odd shape approached the garden, overlooking the sea of colors and scents. Swiftly flapping its tiny wings, the creature hovered over the field, searching for the perfect partner. Amongst the infinite vivid rainbow of flowers, a special one stood out, rendering the whole world colorless but itself. The bird quickly reached its surroundings and peacefully riveted his eyes on its pink petals.

"Hi, little fellow, what are you?" the flower naively asked, as she had never seen this strange creature before.

"I am a hummingbird," he promptly answered.

"What are you doing out here, Mr. Hummingbird? Aren't you cold?"

"I feel neither the cold nor its frigid breeze, for I am near your purely sound warmth."

"What do you mean? I bear no warmth."

"You are the most beautiful flower in this garden. The blush of your petals that blend with your white and purple flanges are enough to warm up this whole garden, this whole world, forever and ever. I am the luckiest creature, for your ethereal beauty attracted me first, and now I can witness your heavenly grace myself."

The flower still couldn't understand what the hummingbird meant, so she became confused. And the hummingbird leaned in and kissed her and showed her love.

And for the first time, the flower understood what her neighbor felt toward the bee. And she felt calm and exhilarated; she felt loose and vast. The hummingbird's kiss filled her with bliss and wonder, completing a previously unaware deep void inside her. And she felt something powerful going in, overflowing with joy and ecstasy.

For the first time, the flower felt love.

Then the hummingbird backed away, and the flower knew not what to say, for she only felt this alien pleasure. After a few seconds, the bird thanked her for the magical moment and flew away.

The flower was left trying to figure out the wave of emotions flooding her body, all exquisitely fascinating and thrilling. Like the sunshine, she learned that she needed love to survive and was now yearning for his return.

And so she eagerly waited. Every day she looked at the sky, hoping to see those nimble wings hovering about, and every night she dreamed of the kiss, the kiss that showed her love.

And the days became weeks. The bee returned every day, but the hummingbird did not. And what was then an eager await became a patient one. The flower longed for the hummingbird, craved his kiss, and needed this newly found love.

And the weeks became months. Like the shore who watches the inevitable tide ebb out, so did the flower feel the hope of his return gradually fading away. Eventually, that uncovered love that seemed to be an everlasting amalgam of rapture and serenity lost in a state of timeless reverie became but a hazy image withering into oblivion.

On a cloudless and shiny day, as if by random chance, a dark speck of wings emerged to taint the deep-blue sky. The flower didn't give any thought since the long days of waiting masked every last remnant of what was left of hope. However, as the spot grew approaching the eye, the flower could distinguish this blur from the hummingbird itself.

And just like that, every element of the long-lost feeling came back, piece by piece, until it became whole and complete. Thus, the forgotten love was reborn -- more vital than before.

Miraculously, the flower remembered everything she felt like it was yesterday. And she remembered the hummingbird's eyes, his words, and his kiss. She remembered the rush, the shiver, the breathless inhaling. She remembered the passionate daydreams and the lustful nightdreams.

The flower remembered love.

And the eagerness to taste that kiss again was as intense as love itself.

Swiftly flapping its tiny wings, the hummingbird hovered over the field, searching for the perfect partner. Amongst the infinite vivid rainbow of flowers, a special one stood out, rendering the whole world colorless but herself. The bird quickly reached her surroundings and peacefully riveted his eyes on her blue petals.

The flower witnessed as the bird ignored her existence and mirrored the same routine with another one. And she was crushed, and her heart bled out. With the same depth and passion that she discovered love, she came upon the bitterness and despair of heartbreak. Yet, this new feeling seemed to bear a much sharper emotion, a fresh wound that would never heal.

And so, with a bleeding heart, the flower nevermore looked up.

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This is the tale of a flower who learned that the cost of love is everlasting pain.