White Orchids

What is it with people going berserk with Valentine’s day? It’s just another every day!

Same routines, same old office, sitting underneath a pile of files, fake laughter with a bunch of colleagues over a cup of bitter green tea.

Don’t feel sorry for my sorry life, I’m not against love. Only does it need a single special day to be expressed?

And yet the same topics of conversation everywhere, What special plans for the day?

The lucky ones in the anticipation of the elaborately planned candlelight dinners, the not so lucky ones brooding under a growing sense of loneliness.

Well, where do you think this is heading? Categorizing me already considering this rant?

Let me surprise you, I belong to a third category - hopelessly in love, that cannot be expressed.

So, as I sit here and listen to people discuss their plans I slip back in time to the warmth of his smile, the enthusiasm in his voice, the determination and the solidness of his thoughts, the gentleness of his rough hands cradling mine.

I’m broken out of my reveries by the question directed at me, What are your plans?

Nothing, I’m at home, I say and I add to myself – Missing every moment of being in the presence of the man of my life.

It isn’t as easy as it sounds, a long-distance relationship. It doesn’t work out for itself, it needs to be worked upon. And it is exhausting, the need to be with. It is love that cannot be expressed.

Why? You ask. It tears your heart apart, the waiting for the next reply. There is a constantly deepening pit inside you filled with a craving for communication. The need to know what is happening in the other’s life subconsciously gnawing in your mind. The more you think of your love, the more you want to break all bonds, throw away your life and just live in the blissful presence of your love.

Is it worth all that? You ask. I wouldn’t know. And even if I did I couldn’t tell. So, I do what I know the best. My coping mechanism, I suppress. Bottle up all the feelings, wrap it gently in a muslin cloth, followed by multiple layers of bubbly wrap and throw it in the back of my mind. And on days like today, some idiot kicks the bottle back to the foreground, where I sit and caress it until I can collect myself together again.

Today feels like the longest day, everything decorated in red as if I need any more reminders. Three weeks, it is the longest I have waited for a message from him, at least something to suggest his wellbeing. The last we met was at the railway station, as I bade him farewell, five months ago. Tears threatened to flood my eyes as I smiled on. I knew it wasn’t easy for him either. I had to be strong.

I find myself going through the motions of the day with no real sense of things around me. I catch the red bus home at the end of the day, still with a heavy heart, and a small prayer for him. The journey back home is harder, sappy love songs on the radio. Today I decide, I will allow myself a little brooding for love. Happy Valentine’s Day to me.

I am aware of the buzz in the air as I alight from the bus at my stop. But I am not interested in what is exciting the people. A small accident perhaps, a broken leg. I walk away from the crowd, eyes on the ground below, drowning myself in my thoughts. Yea, you must be thinking I am such a self-centered bitch with no concern. Blame Valentine.

Two young girls, just out of their teens, rush past me and I catch a whiff of their conversation – A handsome young man, dressed in crisp Army uniform, distributing red roses to all the ladies. Only one fool I could think of, would cause such a commotion but can it be true? I look out in disbelief and my heart skips a beat or two. Everything else blurs out in the radiance of his smile.

He walks away from the crowd with a single stalk of white orchids in hand. I feel the tears flowing free.