I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the way we need to be apart from you. When we withdraw from your arms, the hush in our tone and the look in our eyes telling you things that our lips do not.
I know that sometimes, it’s hard to understand our silence and that sometimes, you have no idea why we need to stop and smell the roses in every garden we pass. It must seem strange that sometimes, we need to put on our best clothes and lay silent in fields. Watching blades of grass quiver in the wind, lovingly combing our fingers through them instead combing our fingers through your hair.
Sometimes, it may seem we write more about the flowers than about you. But the softness of petals has taught us about the softness of your skin and accidentally bruising them taught us not to accidentally bruise your heart.
I’m sorry that sometimes, we disappear to take photos of bushfires or explore abandon buildings, but we do it to remind ourselves how easily everything can go up in smoke and how quickly people can forget. We stare at the sky because it taught us that you can see something every day and still be marveled by its ever-changing beauty.
Just like you.
After all, this is about you darling. I go only to learn, I go only to be better. I go for lessons in love from Mother Nature herself and I need to be able see. To understand how the sun can light up the sky and write about the fascination I have with the way the sun kissing the flowers brings them to life. The truth is, I go only to learn and I learn only to write and I write only to learn and today I learned: that I’m more in love with the way you drink coffee, than with all the sun-kissed flowers under the sky.