There was this space I created, an aspect of Wanderland, specifically where I could go and decompress. Sometimes even reflect. Pondering various scenarios to situations of “what if?” I would look at the sky and replay memories as if they projected from my eyes. Life. Triumphant. Failure. Growth. Potential. Even with such positivity my heart felt half empty. I’d walk around the “Secret Garden” consuming the aroma of blooming flowers. Reminiscing when love would visit me. Flowers. Timeless. romantic. All the things I’ve heard but found to be worthless promises. However like blooming flowers, from the melancholy of lost love comes sweet aromas of rebirth. Reconstruction. All in an instant at the onset of my bitterness brings a wave of euphoria. Hope. Materialized sights of what is desired in the mind. A Casanova. Sent to save love from the perils of evil. A Champion. New soil for my love to be reborn again. My love. Damaged yet unconditional. Pricelessly worthy. Protective. Relentlessly stubborn. But such things are merely sweet dreams and delusions displayed by fairy tale happily ever after. Or so I thought until once more the “Secret Garden” called. Desires of the mind were no longer secluded to one dimension. There you appeared surrounded by the lovely glare of pureness. Fearless. Brave. Charming. Perfectly imperfect. A new version of adore. With such ease I gravitated towards you. Previous barriers slowly became non-existent. Yes I questioned it. Rightfully so with such new encounters of romance. Absolutely nothing I’ve experienced and everything I wanted. Pinching myself because this can’t be happening. Tell me, what are the odds of having someone till your last breath? Could you be with someone until their last breath? Endlessly experiencing random mood swings and arguments in which you sometimes forget why they even happened? When I transform into a form practically untamable from the rise of anger will you run? Will you protect me from the negatives of the world? When you abandon ship as the storm grows stronger and closer? I have no answers to these questions (I heard, I felt) but I hope you’ll allow yourself to be fearless and see that I will do nothing more but give you all of me. Suddenly words didn’t just seem like a whisper. A half empty heart started to fill and in the “Secret Garden” remains a beacon of never giving up. The blooming flowers of love for not only themselves, but others, to believe that fairy tales can become reality. Your Champion can stand beside you. Even search after search with failed results, the best things can certainly happen when you least expect them.
- Alex N. Wanderland
Dedicated to: “Georgie: such the gentleman” ❤