Remember that day we walked down this lane? I held your hand and the world seemed so distant. I can’t remember now what it was we talked about. The conversation has faded, but your smile burns into my heart like it had on that cold winters day.
Have you kissed another? And felt like we did? Did it feel like brandy flowing through your veins? They say love is cautious and brave. Maybe mine was reckless but it was love all the same.
We walked towards a bench and by it saw that lonely rose. Bright red it beckoned us. We sat for a while didn’t say a word. There was no one around and time stood still.
I was only seventeen. A silly ignorant teenage girl, hopelessly in love. Unaware of the world around her. I dreamt a lot back then. I didn’t know who I was or who it is I wanted to be. My future seemed so far away. We danced so often do you remember? Our laughter echoes in my mind, gurgling and fading away. I was carefree like the eagle we once saw circling over the valley. But as we sat there I found an answer to a question I asked myself often back then. Looking back on my life and wrinkled and greying what do I want to see?
That rose taught me this. All I want to be is a lonely rose in a field of snow. Frozen in time and memory. It won’t be easy to brave that storm, but it will be worth a thousand summer days. I won’t have the bees humming over my head. I might meet a raven or a fox crossing frozen rivers. The adoration of a million bees won’t be as golden as the acquaintance of these intrepid travellers. I may not bloom for long but long enough for lovers to come upon a rose in December and smile their sweetest smiles. Long enough for one lost soul that sings of sorrows unknown to gaze upon me and find hope. My road has always been the one less travelled by. That rose helped me find the courage to accept that. It’s the beauty not everyone can see and fewer can appreciate.
I didn’t know what you were thinking of as we stared into the distance my head resting on your shoulder and our fingers intertwined. I didn’t tell you then but my life changed that day. When I chose to live like roses in December.
There is a part of you that dreams. That part wants things it can’t have. It wants things out of your reach. For some it may be to find the unexpected waiting to happen, to step out and see that what they expected was only a shadow to the person that cast it. Their expectations will fall short. That part all of us think is the reason why. It’s the reason why we find strength to ask questions that may break us. It’s the reason why we cry alone sometimes. It’s also the reason why we smile. It’s the part of you that you think makes life worth living.
But there is a part of you that brings you back. Back to where you belong. When you thought maybe just maybe dreams exist for a reason. This part shows you dreams are just that dreams. They are illusions. Yes you may see glimpses of a few somewhere along the way. But they disappear when you try to hold on to them. People think this is the part of us that makes us ordinary. That it stops us from staring in wonder at the leaf falling from a tree, at the sun setting by the sea, at the tear rolling down a cheek. But all that part really does is it stops us from losing ourselves to a fantasy. It tells us don’t. Sometimes dreams may be misleading. You may not really want what you think you do. It is not wrong to get out when you can, because what looks like water in the hot desert sun might just be sand. So wake up. And stop dreaming.
But for that part to stay alive you need the one that dreams. You need to know what you think you want so that when something extraordinary happens you know it is bigger than all you dreamt of. Don’t hold on if you want to let go. But don’t let go because you think you want diamonds when all you get is a rose. Because that rose is the best there is. It is better than a thousand diamonds. If you can’t see the beauty of it then your reality can never be beautiful. Let go of those dreams, let reality be the only dream you have. There may be something better around the corner, but the thing about reality is it has thorns, it is cloaked, it is hiding. Only those who have dreamt right will find it. Because sometimes reality is better than your dreams could ever be.