3a.m. Atmosphere

A rose. One was enough, the single presence of something so beautiful. It should be enough right? He should see how much she loves him right? No.

Because everything you hear is a lie. Everything you know is wrong. You don't understand. It used to be said often enough. Today, once more, it whispers in her heart, growing louder with her pulse. A shake of the head. A hidden tear. One, two, and then another. And then another.

You don't understand. "What a stupid thing to say? How can I understand if you don't tell me anything? I'm not a mind reader." He stoutly stands there sexistly and stupidly defending his sorry self.

Yet, he is not stout. He is not stupid. He is a little sexist and alot sorry.

Tonight, the perfect ending to a perfect day. While the air hangs in the room, not moving, like people in a queue. While the recycled air brings forth material comfort to the lethargic mother. While the fever continues. Tonight, I shall close my eyes. Tonight they are shut. And I shall remember painfully.

She waited eagerly behind a pillar. A single rose lies in wait of the unknowing suitor. Her eyes gleam and the anxiousness compells her left foot to bounce. Up, down, up down. Up. Down. She realizes this and stops. Where is he. Where is he? Up, down, up, down. Up. Down. Once more her body responds to her mind. Everything else is abandoned as she waits. More worries. There are no worries. All that matters is that he gets the rose. All that matters is that he knows. All that matters is that one day, he will tell her. All that she wants to hear, so many times has she heard the passionate grip on her shoulders and yet many more times she has seen his genuine, tear-filled words. All that matters is what he tells her! What he says! Oh, the importance of his words! Oh, they mean so much to her! Oh. They mean so much to her. Whats' it to you, you wouldn't know. Alas, if you were me. Sitting alongside of you. To be able to touch you, and see the shadows on your face. Oh, to be able to trace the grooves on your hand. Oh! To be near you! To be so far away from much else! Why, nothing else matters! Nothing!

Nothing else matters. She still waits as the clouds come closer to conspire with the sun. Against the sun. It's so hard, sir. All they want to do is break free and dance upon the earth. It's Friday you know. Let it rain. ..yet, it doesn't. But all is well. The rose is spotted. Nothing else matters.

Sleep is threatening me. Let me go.