Humans, by nature, are creatures of the present.
We live in the now.
And maybe your now was 4 years ago before she died,
And maybe your now is a visionary hope of days yet to come.
Whatever the case, I've had a beautiful thought, or better said, a bit of happy revelation;
The seed never sees the flower.
If you had met me 3 years ago, you'd have a vastly different experience than if you met me today.
Then, my countenance bore the look of a fox lily seed bulb, or rather, a soiled ******* with a shriveled pink petal of hope and thick tendrils of pity, like some kind of monster bug that got lost while looking for where the wild things went.
A rather pathetic sight, coupled with the stench drug abuse and swelling cresendos of loneliness.
Back then I lived in the shadows of regret, and walked on a leash with a noose as my collar, made tame by the demon to whom she sold my soul: Depression.
I drowned my sorrows in ***** and stifled it with the fragrance of dank ****.
My head hung lose on my shoulders, my shoulders slumped hopelessly over my body, and I had an distinct shroud of gloom.
I wanted to die.
But as those long and lonely hours drew out into dreary September days, and on to weeks,
then months,
then years,
I began to blossom.
Thick tendrils of pity took root in the rich soils of friends in need and grew into powerful roots of compassion, transcending years and onwards to a lifetime.
The ******* actually became a heart.
Strong and bold, and inscribed with the scars of every story.
And that little, shriveled petal?
It blossomed into a steadfast and fiery fox tail lily, and when the sun hits it at just the right angle, it almost looks like the burning flame of invigorating life.
And there I stand, stalwart and garish amidst the rolling hills of our very own pale blue dot, looking back on the path that lead me here, simply by letting time pass and enduring the onslaught of change.
And I remembered
The seed never saw the flower.
