The Wilting Petals of my Affection

I wished for a less strong admiration for him every second in his company. He was so capable of it, everything he did was so effortless. His immense charm and what they could manage, and with a pretty, empty compliment, accompanied with a touch of sharp wit, it was beyond control, and I fell, deep and hard. Bright, deep red petals, in the colour of his love began to surface. So fragile looking and delicate, they were. They weighed me down, as each of them bloomed, each brighter and sweeter than the one before. They weighed me down, as I sunk into dark waters, I no longer fought nor questioned, I unchained myself from the world, and I was in deep, and retrieval was beyond impossible. The vines that grew around my desiccated heart tightened, the deep red petals enveloping my draught-stricken heart. It was breathing again, and surely, streams of cool spring water trickled down my heart. It all lasted but a lavish moment or so. Moisture left my heart, surely when he left suddenly for fresh terrain. Breath escaped me, moments shy of my resurfacing. I had fallen into a trap, struggling to surface for air, I clawed, because I had them, striking anything coming in my way because I could easily do so, within a heartbeat. A monster resurfaced, I was not myself, the world around me darkened, the bright red petals fell off, leaving my heart faulty and fairly breathing. Caught in between what was and what has become, my walls crumbled under the weight of a tragic falling out of love. Grief stricken and at my wits end for a vague sign of an answer, what was left of me, clamoured to a way out. Not all of me had wanted to leave, my mind separated, the one who is aware and striving for freedom and the one who is aware and is hoping blindly. Leaving as a part of yourself was bloody and gory struggle to freedom, won with cold shoulders and stares, the forced breaking of a dying affection, building walls stronger than before, strong enough for him to never come back. Most of all, the fables of a tragically destined meeting. A little after, one starts to regain a replacement for the lost part of the mind. A return of the mind, would be challenging, it has been etched as a part of the past. For the dire and blind hope to ever be unraveled again to create its effects and dazzle the dazzled and crush the crushed once more. The fresh cleanse, has rid of the dying clinging red petals, that have been well out of nourishment. Yellow buds, begin to appear on the lakes surface. The same ones, sprout on the intertwining vines, feeding off sadness from the heart. I think, 'Is this what I have been missing? If yes, then happiness is a most wonderful experience'. Frequent brushes with him have created a flutter of the wilting red petals. A warmth creeps over them, revitalising them for a moment, and the surely when he was out of mind, they continued valiantly to carry on without their source of life. The yellow buds soon begin to bloom and bring life. The red petals fell off slowly, given the duration of the wilting, I wondered how long it had taken. It was still, in fact going on. How much had I had? How much did I cherish each petal? How deep had I sunk to? The very recollection of him, gave the deep red petals a resurgence and I caught my breath, like I once did for the very first time. The deep red petals, whom had once bloomed, bright and beautiful for him, had started to resurface overpowering the tiny yellow buds. The lost part of my mind, soon took the form of the monster I once was. Only this time, she was fooled once more by him. It only made her more beautiful, more persuasive, the sane part of me, attempted to run for it. I was finding less room to run in, and when it was the time I realised I was running in the same place, avoiding the same thing; and most frighteningly, I came to the realisation I never left, the flowers were wilting, they never did absolutely die. His pull on me, never loosened completely, just enough for me to think so, and the illusion did its job. I was being seduced into coming back, the deep red petals, grew to full, bright and red flowers, flourishing in my misery. I felt the softening of my heart, an the return of a warmer substance occupying my heart. The monster never left the lake, she called, she held on to very piece and crumb she had collected and salvaged from the wreck and she returned with enough power, to convince me wholly and successfully. Her claws, grabbed a hold of my body, slowly, I sunk into the darkness, the faint smell of red rose flowers as I descended through dark waters, once more. This time, with less fight, less of everything I ever had. The flowers of his love was overpowering, the little yellow buds stood no chance. The strong walls I built, crumbled like pebbles, put up no fight, and I was left vulnerable. His arms held me once more, tighter in embrace and I felt the gash he left, not opening, but closing, scanning and disappearing, without any effort of mine. The contours of our bodies fit perfectly. Embraces were always heavenly, and what was left of me, the fighting part, fell down, and admitted defeat. I longed to feel complete, and for once, it felt like it, and I was at peace. Strangely, by the same man who disrupted my peace. It made sense that only he could restore perfectly the damage he caused. I felt whole, once more. Flowers sprouted, the vines and binds around my heart, held it like he held me in embrace, protectively and with longing. Petals, fell from the sky, the parts of my mind that was lost, reunited, and I stood sturdier. His lavish showers of affection, weakened me, my will grew weak, my love and admiration grew immensely, and once again, wishing for a less strong admiration for him, every second in his company. A mutual affection was to develop, and happily I would never end it and cause him my pain, for I would have to heal. For when the day would come, he should have to suffer without my aid and mending. I suppose I was saving it for a rainy day, where he will be left to deal with his own kind of darkness and monsters. But, with all my heart, I pray for that day to never come.