My Last Day

The garden path is overgrown with roses that have long rambled free of their beds. Their perfume rises with the sun and I sat still; absorbing it all.

My last day.

Tomorrow I’ll be gone from this all, the lemon grove, the stream and him.
At last.
Would I miss anything?
Now that’s a good question!

I suppose I will miss the way the sun set sends it’s crimson rays across the yard and into my room, throwing its last attempt to warm me up onto the patchwork quilt. Oh! And the stocks, their heavenly scent carried in my window on summer breezes, drying my sweat soaked, love sore skin.

I’ll miss the quiet, and the stillness that allows the forest deer to wander unafraid into the back garden. Their flickering ears and soft brown eyes always alert even when they’re at ease. Such elegant creatures – they’re almost my favourite.

But most of all I miss him.

I miss him with every breath I take. I miss the way his laugh rumbled in his chest as he held me close, oh and how he smelled!
His own special smell of honest hard work & man that never failed to stir me deep inside where I didn’t realise I could feel.

I won’t miss the aching loneliness.
The nights wondering where he is, or what he’s doing.
The constant checking of my phone, of looking out the window at every sound.
Or the questions that always tormented me – whose perfume did that belong to? Who did I know with blonde hair?

So in all honesty I can say that I’m ok – I’ll sign that dotted line today, and look forward to tomorrow, and a new dawn.
And new love.


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