One summer day I got this feeling when you were gone…

I closed my eyes and inhaled in the smoke of the blazing orange fire before me as pictures of us shriveled into ashes. I threw in another photo, a bracelet, a necklace, the card you bought me when I was sick and the dried flowers I had saved after our first date, I looked at the next item to play victim in my blazing inferno of anger.

We sat on the cream coloured carpet in your living room. The sky was clear and the sound of a sprinkler could be heard as kids ran through, laughing and enjoying their summer freedom. The sunlight filtered through the window casting a lazy haze as it reflected off the small particles of dust in the air.

“I have something to give you.” You said gently to me, pulling me towards you. I was drawn towards your warmth, your comforting scent and I smiled as I buried my face in the crook of your neck.

“What is it?” I asked, looking up at you with shining eyes. You pulled a small potted plant from behind your back and placed it in my hands.

“Rosa berberifolia. Happy birthday, love.” You whispered into my hair as you tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“A rose?” I asked, wondering how a small pot contained a beautiful rose. The plant was still young, only a small shoot had poked up from the cold, wet soil and I looked curiously at the plant.

“Yes, water it and fertilize it, shower it with a little love and soon it will blossom into an ethereal flower that will capture the spotlight in any bouquet.” You said to me. A rose was known for its beauty, as much as it was known for its thorns.

I sat down, picking up the small pot. The motion caused the remaining leaves on the dead rose to drop to the ground. I pulled out the dead wilted flower from the pot and threw it into the flames, as much as I tried to revive the flower, it was gone for good.

“Water?” I asked and you handed the small cup to me as I poured it into the pot. I rested my chin on my arms as I watched the water seep into the containing dish. You came up behind me and wrapped your arms around me, plucking me from my spot beside the plant and plopping me on the bench beside you.

“Play.” You breathed the command and I complied as my well trained fingers moved along the ivory keys, each adding a note to the flowing melody. You closed your eyes and a faint smile played on your lips as you put your hands on the piano, adding a harmony to the piece I was playing.

The music swelled as you and I were perfectly in sync. A small breeze came in through the window and made contact with my skin, sending shivers up my spine. A reminder that summer wasn’t going to last forever.

I threw the wilted rose into the fire, emptying the contents of the pot onto the ground and setting the pot aside. There was no room for deceased flowers, it was time to make room for something new, something with vitality and something with the spark of life.

I crashed my car into the bridge, I watched, I let it burn…

We sat in silence, the only other sound being the spluttering of the old bus engine needing a transmission check. You played with my fingers as I looked out the window as the blurs changed from the flashing streaks of lights of the city to the dark, barren wilderness of the countryside.

“What are we doing?” You asked me. The seemingly peaceful atmosphere was jarred, and it gave rise to the underlying tension and charged emotions that proceeded to rush to the forefront of our minds.

“What do you mean?” I asked, evading your question as I skillfully averted my eyes from your face to the morphing images outside the window. Ignorance was bliss, but at some point, I needed to face reality. You let go of my hand and I immediately felt your warmth leave my fingers, my fingers twitched once, unfamiliar to the chill in the atmosphere.

“I mean, I clearly like you and you like me.” You said solemnly as you gently tilted my face to meet your eyes. I blinked once under your intense stare.

“Yes, and can’t it stay that way?” I asked naively, not wanting this time to come to an end.

“The summer is almost over, when it is, there will be none of this.” You said, gesturing to the close proximity of our bodies. “There won’t be hugs, no long talks, no warm embraces.”

“We don’t need all of that do we? As long as we have each other…” I suggested simply and you looked away.

“I suppose you’re right.” You replied. I felt my heart sink as your words settled in my mind. I wasn’t worried before but now I was, and for the first time, I realized how superficial our relationship had really been.

“I want to make this last.” I said finally after a few minutes of crushing silence.

“I do too.” You replied and I relaxed, but somewhere in my mind, I knew it wasn’t sincere.

I packed your into a bag and threw it down the stairs…

I looked back at the fire as a single tear trickled down from my eye, landing at the bottom of the pot where it proceeded to mix with the dirt left there, becoming mud. I opened my phone and scrolled to my contact list where I saw your name entered in as “Boyfriend <3”. I took a deep breath and deleted the number. As if that would help though, I’d dialed your number so many times it was already engraved deeply in my mind.

In the beginning our calls were frequent and they often lasted into the early hours of the morning when both of us, drowsy with sleep, would mumble a good night, sweet dreams, falling deeply into slumber. There were times when we would spend hours talking about absolutely nothing and yet it would seem like the best time in the world, and other times we would have deep meaningful conversations, as we obstinately planned our futures like we had the faintest idea of what was to come.

I closed the window, and watched as gold, red and orange leaves blew in the wind. Summer had finally come to an end and you were already hundreds of kilometers away. I grabbed a cup and watered my rose dutifully and then sat down and opened my computer up to Skype.

“See? I’m taking good care of the rose.” I said, grinning and pointed my webcam towards the small pot where a bud was already beginning to form on the plant. You smiled but it disappeared quickly as something else on your monitor distracted your attention. My grin faded as I watched you type something furiously into your computer and smile profusely at the response. I wasn’t the one who was making you smile anymore. I pressed the end call button and sat on my bed, waiting for you to text me but the text never came.

The texts became shorter and less frequent. We fell into the insipid cycle of talking about our busy daily schedules, so much so, I could practically pinpoint the moment you sneezed from how much we talked. I was trapped in the apathetic lull of being a creature of habit and your torpid responses became clear to be that you had checked out of us a long time ago.

I grew tired of trying to hold on the little spark I could feel from the summer. It was as if I had been carrying a weight that was defunct and paralyzed, it felt as if I was talking to a brick wall, but at least brick walls sometimes echoed sound. I stopped watering the rose.

“Hey!” A pretty girl wearing sneakers and a pair of jewel encrusted headphones waved to you and you waved back. A sharp pang of envy shot through me as you smiled and waved back.

“Who is she?” I asked, trying to keep my tone as neutral as possible.

“That’s just Alicia, she’s just a friend of mine.” You replied.

“She’s pretty.” I commented and you stopped to look at me.

“Yeah, she is.” You said and I was a little bit taken aback.

“Do you like her?” I asked.

“I used to because she was pretty.” You replied and from that moment on, I knew.

Two months later, I saw your friend post pictures of you with the pretty girl. You were looking at her and smiling, the way you used to smile at me. I wasn’t sad thought, I knew this was coming all along. When your text came asking to talk, I was completely prepared.

“I think it’s better off if we were friends.” You said and I didn’t respond. We stopped being friends a long time ago.

“Something about us isn’t working.” I replied finally.

“I want you to know though that there isn’t a problem with either of us, I just don’t feel like I’m putting enough into this relationship.” Damn right you aren’t.

“I never asked anything of you.” I responded in the same dull tone.

“I know and I’m sorry.” You said.

“There is clearly something wrong with us if we are breaking up.” I replied flatly.

“Fine, in that case it’s me, I’m not putting in enough effort.” You replied.

“I know you better than you think, tell me the truth, when did you stop liking me?” I asked, setting myself up for more hurt.

“I never stopped liking you.” You replied.

“Liar, you lie.” I accused.

“No, I still like you as a person.” You tried to reason.

“Yeah, at some point though our relationship became platonic or we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” I said.

“You’re right, maybe it became platonic because I wasn’t putting in enough effort.” You offered but I was done. With us. With all of it. “I hope we can still be friends.” You offered as parting words and I didn’t respond. Yes, I was expecting it, yes, I saw it coming, yes, I was prepared but that didn’t stop it from hurting.

That night I went home and the shower so no one would hear me sob my heart out in anguish. You already broke my heart, but that day, you smashed it into tiny little pieces. Of course, I was naive to believe that you would want me in your life forever, I was naive to believe that it would work out, I was naive to believe the words you said.

I guess though, I was being too selfish. Holding onto you was like trying to hold onto thin wisps of smoke. You weren’t mine for the keeping.

I crashed my car into the bridge, I don’t care. I love it.

I cried, ate ice cream and sat on the couch watching soap operas for an entire week. I didn’t want to call my friends to vent my frustration though. I’d always been a strong person, I didn’t want to seem weak in front of them, especially not over a guy. Two days later, I went out and got a haircut. I wrote you a letter expressing all the feelings I’d never got a chance to do when we broke up and ripped it into shreds. I registered in a kick-boxing class and I picked my life back up from where I’d left it before this summer.

This morning, I saw the rose had wilted and then realized how many things around me reminded me of you. So here we are, I’m burning our memories so I can finally let go. Thank you for a wonderful summer, Luhan.