Springtime is when flowers bloom. And every year, I'm one of the people who eagerly wait for trees to blossom. But unlike everyone, I’m not waiting for warm weather. I’m waiting to see him. He that only appears with the delicate array of papery pink blossoms of the trees.
Today he stood in the arch bridge that perfectly reflected in the water, I ignored the fact that he isn’t in it. My focus is on him, to his enchanting presence that makes everything else fade.
“This year I’ll confess,” I told myself and march with determination toward him then stumble awkwardly at his feet. I waited for him to laugh at me, but he offers me a hand and a smile more beautiful than an angel.
“Are you alright?”
“I, um,” I started nervously and went on without breathing, “I’ve been observing you since childhood, during my teens until now that I’m 20.”
“I Know.”
“What?”
“I always made sure to be here so that I can see you too,” he said in a sweet, soft voice that made me dizzy.
Courage grew stronger in my heart and the words were out before I can stop my mouth. “Please be my boyfriend!”
The chilly wind blows, shaking the trees, ruffling our hair, rustling the leaves, and makes the petals rain down on us. In a languid movement, he reaches out and lets the petals fall in his palms before he turns to me with pain in his eyes.
“But I’m not human, I’m the spirit of this forest. I’ve lived here before you were born and will be here long after you’re gone.”
Another wind blow and in a blink of an eye, he was gone, but I felt his arms around me as he murmured “I love you and I’m sorry.”
I smiled. I’m not brokenhearted because there’s always next spring. “I’ll be here next year and the year after that, and after that until the day when you and I can be together.”
I felt can feel his warmth left me as his voice echoed in the trees, “Then, I will be waiting here that day…”
The end...
