It was cherry blossom season in Washington D.C.
She was stunning, but something was wrong
She wanted the trampled blossoms for souvenirs
A representation of her rage
It made sense only in her mind, where reality and fiction were blending
We didn’t know then the hell that awaited
I didn’t know I was about to be changed forever
In the days that came I held her as she cried,
Answered questions about the voices that haunted her
That no one could hear
Walked with her when the world
Was full of fear
And she was alone
Later we’d know this was an episode, a problem with a name and a treatment plan, but in that moment
It was her and I, holding hands, making promises and blending our tears to the injustice of the situation
In the months and year that followed I was alone. She went home and I stayed behind,
In infected rage. Not at her, but at the world,
At the people I loved who turned their backs as I held her through hell
I carry the cherry blossoms behind my right ear
A reminder of D.C. in the spring
Of her and I against the world
Of knowing hell to appreciate heaven
A reminder that life is beautiful, fleeting, and merely a season.
A reminder I’m never alone
<3