She spoke with such a nonchalance, as if everything that had once tied her to this world had been cut loose, no longer of any relevance to her.
Murray felt a suffocating frustration, like the more he tried to grasp onto something, the quicker it slipped through his fingers like sand.
Once upon a time, he had spitefully uprooted the flowers she had tenderly cared for. Now, he was trying to make amends, presenting her with a garden blooming with fragrance and a riot of colors.
Yet, she seemed unimpressed…
“It’s okay if you don’t like it, we can go somewhere else…” he offered tentatively.
“It’s not that, I do like it.” Roseanne met his gaze squarely, her eyes clear and honest. “These flowers are truly beautiful. It's an innate appreciation of beauty and being moved by it.”
“But if this is just a means for you to win me back, and these flowers are merely tools to that end, then such beauty is wasted.”
“I don’t appreciate that kind of waste.”
Murray was taken aback, muttering, “...I just wanted to apologize for what I did in the past.”
“You said it yourself, it’s in the past. Since it’s over, there’s no need to dwell on it. You’ve put so much effort into these flowers, I hope you can truly appreciate and enjoy them for what they are, not by how they relate to my likes and dislikes.”
“Just like… your life should be filled with work and pleasure, joy and ease, comfort and relaxation, not consumed by an attempt to salvage a relationship that shouldn’t be saved, turning it into a mess.”
“Murray, we are independent individuals, each with our own life goals, and thus, inevitably, we’re headed in different directions. We’ve walked a path together in the past, but now we’ve parted ways. If we meet again, it should be with a greeting, not fretting over whether we can walk together again.”
“Maybe we can, maybe we’ve both found better people… Letting go of the past, treating the present with dignity, and facing a future where anything is possible with openness—that’s what we should be doing, isn’t it?”
A year had passed before Murray heard her call him “Murray” again.
But at that moment, there was no joy in him, only a sourness in his throat and a sting in his nose.
“It’s over…”
He couldn’t let go of the past.
Nor could he imagine finding someone better than her.
“Is there really no chance for us?” Murray asked.
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