Bloom Like the Phlox

           My gut told me that I had something to do, and my eyes said that I couldn't wait to do it. My wet face was smashed into the pillow that my crummy, claw-like hands had snagged. A long, scream had exposed from my teeth. It sounded quiet, damaged, and desperate. My impaired legs struggled with the blanket. The memories panged through my brain. What my heart once had was gone, and it suffered and cramped.

Chapter 1

           I guess You could say that I couldn’t sleep last night. So, when my alarm went off at 4 o’clock in the morning, I was frazzled. I shuffled around in the bed for a moment before I finally kicked up the blankets and committed to my new start. My feet were firmly planted on my bedroom floor for the first time of the day, and I lazed out of the room.

           “Meow.” My cat, Gussy, greeted my new state of being with a friendly yowl. I’m sure he was waiting for me to wake up. He watches me sleep from across the room from time to time throughout the night if he gets bored and lonely. It reminds me of when I spy on my ex’s Instagram.

           Gussy followed me around my apartment as I went through my absurdly early morning routine. He stood by the toilet while I pouted in the mirror. My eyes were swollen from my late-night cry fest, so I tried to conceal that with some makeup. He circled around my feet when I was putting on clothes, and when he was done eating his breakfast, he demanded pets. I always make time for Gussy’s pets because I know that he is one soul that will always support me and be there for me in my best and worst times. So, I owe him those pets, You know.

           I had just pulled into work and parked my car behind the coffee shop. My cigarette was still lit and rested in the fingers of my left hand while I turned off the ignition. With my driver’s side window open about an inch, the smoke battled the raindrops for room. It was 5 o’clock in the morning and lightly raining. I jangled the keys into my purse and wondered how long it would last.

           I am usually alone at the shop for a couple hours before the next person comes in at 7 o’clock to help with the morning rush, as You would know. So, I was bewildered when I saw another car. And after the night I had, I was refusing to accept the situation. Alas, as the supervisor of this place, I must be ready to accept any situation no matter what my mood is. I watched her roll down her window halfway, and I prepared to speak for the first time today.

           “Hi!” She said. “Is it okay if I park here?” 

           I heard her through the small gap in my window. I thought it righteous however to roll up my window and slightly open my door before my reply. “Oh, yeah! That’s just fine,” But my response sounded a little curt. I sighed before I opened the door all the way, stepped out into the rain, and prepared myself to train the new store manager.

           We were about the same height, and she wore a black, crocheted cardigan. It was too dark at the time to see the rest of her face and features.

           “I’m here for training.” She politely said, as she opened her umbrella. “I am the new manager. My name is Katherine, but you can call me Kathy.”

           I was impressed that she had an umbrella. “Hi, Kathy!” I returned the greeting as we walked around the side of the building to the front of the store. “I’m Alice. I’m sorry about the smoke, I didn’t realize I was going to be training someone today. But I’m glad you’re here.” Communication wasn’t always the best at this company.

           “Oh! I don’t mind.” She laughed. “I used to be a smoker, so I totally get it.”

           She seems cool. Awesome, I thought as I stamped out the cigarette and put the butt in my pocket.

           As I trained Kathy, the new manager, I taught her how to open the store, and we made some small talk. I do generally like small talk.

           A few hours into the day, I decided to use the restroom. I realized that I seemed to have done an excellent job with handling my internal emotional struggle until I saw myself in the mirror. Slightly rusted around the edges, the mirror reminded me of myself. My eyes still looked just as swollen and puffy as they did this morning. The cold water in my hands felt soothing. As I splashed it into my face, I wondered if Kathy would recognize me when my appearances were normal.

           As I left the bathroom and closed the door behind me, I noticed a change in the color of the shop. The sun came clear out from behind the clouds and illuminated the whole neighborhood.

           “That sun feels so good,” Kathy remarked as I walked behind the counter. “It really is Spring, isn’t it? I am starting to see flowers blooming around town.”

           Flowers.

Chapter 2

         On my drive home from work, I cried. Though, not for as long as I did the night before. It was because I had a little sliver of hope. Thanks to Kathy, I had an idea that could help relax my cramped heart.

           “Meow!” Gussy yowled at me when I closed the door and set down my things. He continued to yowl at me for a little bit longer until I put some food in his bowl. I gave him some pets and a kiss.

           Flowers. I thought.

           I eagerly – frantically – went into my bedroom and threw off my work clothes. I aggressively perused my closet for a sports bra, shorts, a headband…. I snapped on a fanny pack with full intention, and it hugged my waist tightly so that it wouldn’t bounce around. I detangled my headphones, slid them up through my loose shirt, and strapped them to my ears. The weather was still nice, and I was glad for it.

           “Gussy, I’ll be back,” I said, sincerely. I tried to kiss him on the head, but he swerved to the right when I got too close. I smiled, closed the door behind me, and checked my phone to start tracking my run route.

           I noticed that You had sent me a text while I was on my drive home earlier. You asked if I was still down to do the full moon ritual tomorrow night. Of course, I responded with, “Yes! I am excited. 😊," before I turned on some peppy surf rock music to get my blood flowing.

Then, I started the clock on my tracker, and I was off. My mission was flowers. Since I loved to run, I thought that I may as well kill two, or three, birds with one stone. The birds being, my daily exercise, releasing emotional stress, and trying to fix my heart. So, I ran down to the path by the river.

           Spring had appropriately planted the trail with a variety of flowers. About every couple of minutes, I spotted a flower worthy of being plucked and stashed in between my fanny pack strap and my sweaty belly skin.

           I was a wild child. I ran past people who curiously admired my gait and presence on the trail. The gifts of nature flopped around on my waist. If one did fall, I quickly turned around and put it back where it was. Since I guess I didn’t plan that far ahead, I eventually released my ponytail so that I could wrap the flowers with my hair tie. At last, my legs had reached their limit, and I noticed that my hair tie might pulverize the flower stems if I didn’t stop soon. So, I ran home.

           “Gussy,” I said. “Do you think he will like this?”

           I used scissors to dissect my DIY bouquet of flowers. The hair tie turned into string on the ground, which Angus played with obliviously while I continued to trim the stems. Some of the flowers had turned slightly limp, but they still looked okay. I started to arrange the wildflowers in a small vase, that I found unused and hiding in the back of my cupboard above the sink. I couldn’t fit all the flowers in the vase, but that's okay. I smashed in as many as I could. And when I rearranged the flowers, I wondered what my attempt really was. Did I really think that he would care about this? Am I really this desperate, or is this just a thought experiment?

Chapter 3

           “And the more I sat there staring at those flowers, the more I knew that my intentions for them were not for him,” I say while holding the vase of flowers over the sink and looking up at my friend who is standing right by my side. My furry friend also keeping me company -- nuzzling my legs. I continued, "I made them in memory of the love we had, but now I have to let it go. It’s time to move on. Thank You for being here, Cara.”

           “Of course,” Cara says to me. “Thank you for sharing your story. That’s why we do these full moon rituals, Alice. This month, we observe the Pink Moon, which is name after phlox. Phlox are pink flowers that bloom in early spring. So, what are your intentions for this new cycle?”

           I grin, satisfied with what I’m about to say. I open my hand in her direction, and she instinctively hands me her lighter. “On this Pink Moon,” I say, “I learn to love myself.” I flick the lighter and the flames slowly ignite the limp wildflowers. “My intention is to bloom like the phlox.”

"Meow."