Flowers in May — pt.2. Thank you for making me bloom — even… | by my dearest

A few months passed. It was May again.
Our last May. Our last meet.

I had been preparing something for the people who meant the world for me. I wrote some letters, each one attached to a small macaroon, and I even bought bouquets of flowers. No matter what had happened before, I still carried those gifts carefully in my tote bag.
I was grateful — everyone loved the things I gave them. I gave everything I had, except for one bouquet.

That one…
I kept for myself.

I held it tightly as I took my final pictures in my school uniform. I cherished every second that I had. I took a lot of pictures with the people I loved most.
The sky was bright that day, painted in my favorite shade of soft blue.
But slowly, it faded behind clouds as the sun began to disappear again.

When I got home, it rained — again.
I laid down on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
I opened my phone, scrolling through the photos I had taken.

Until I found one picture between me with my friend.
She held the bouquet I had given for her, while I held mine tightly.

My eyes shifted to the bouquet still inside my tote bag, untouched. Alongside it, the last envelope with a macaroon still clinging to it.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let my mind drifted.
I returned to the moment I gave that bouquet to my friend — how her eyes sparkled with happiness when I thanked her for everything we had been through.

But quietly, I glanced at you.
You were standing not too far away.

I clutched my tote bag tighter — still carrying the last bouquet and envelope. There was something I wanted to say. But I couldn’t speak when you were around.

I just stood there…
Knowing the last gift would never reach your hands.