Exquisite moments.

I stood by my upstairs window peeking out at the beginning of an exquisitely lovely summer's day. The dawn bathed the morning sun in its last soft shades of pink, orange and yellow hues.

I watched him park his car by the side of the road. Fleetingly...I imagined him making a quick getaway. I wonder why that particular thought crossed my mind. He reached for something from the front passenger seat...Flowers. Perhaps just to say, hello...kind of blooms, for it was not any of the special occasions.

He could not see me, the curtains completely obscured me from the outside world.

This was such a beautifully vivid scene that nature had painted...almost cinematic, like the kind of moment when the world seems perfectly still, and all its beauty quietly unfolds before your eyes. The soft, warm glow of dawn and my silent perch behind the curtains created a sense of serenity and reflection.

I turned joyfully, happy to see him, and floated down the stairs, my heart filled with the anticipation of the overtures of love. Barely registering each creak of the steps, though sounding louder in the stillness of the morning, I smiled. My heart fluttered in tune with the colorful remnants of the soft aurora, still casting a gentle glow through the windowpane.

As I reached the last stair, there he stood by the door. His frame backlit by the morning light streaming through the glass panels, making him appear almost ethereal. In his hands, the bouquet of freshly picked wildflowers, daisies, buttercups, and lavender...still dewy with the morning mist.

He stood motionless, shoulders heavy with a weight he hadn’t yet spoken. His eyes searched mine, a silent plea flickering in their depths, as though wishing for the right words to appear or for this moment to pass without him needing to speak at all. The stillness between us felt alive, stretching into something unspoken and unbearable. The bouquet in his hand shifted slightly as his grip tightened, the flowers trembling under his touch. His lips parted, then pressed together again, a fleeting hesitation that spoke louder than any words could.

He stepped forward, a soft, bittersweet smile playing on his lips. Without a word, he handed me the flowers, their delicate fragrance weaving into the air between us. His fingers brushed against mine for the briefest of moments, sending a shiver down my spine.

Leaning in, he kissed my cheek***gentle, lingering, and somehow filled with everything he couldn’t say aloud. I closed my eyes, holding on to the sensation, wishing it would last just a little longer.

And then, with a slow, shuddering breath, he spoke.

“Sorry! I have to go"! He murmured, his voice low and weighted with emotion. And just like that, the warmth of his presence began to slip away as he turned to the door. The flowers trembled in my hands as I watched him walk into the golden morning, leaving behind only the faint scent of lavender and the ache of goodbye.