The Meadow

Written By Toujours Moi

On the tallest hill in the centre of the meadow, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, taking in the crisp fresh breath into my pollution infested lungs. I smell the scent of freshly cut grass, the sweetness of the cherry blossoms and the pine from the woods behind. I feel the soothing warmth of the sun rays upon my upturned face and the soft tickles of the blades of grass between my bare feet. I feel the slight breeze ruffle the hem of my dress and I hear the tinkling voices of the birds as they sing into the spring morning air.

Opening my eyes, they are greeted with the stretches of open greenness, only enhanced by the huge rumbling oak trees, branches reaching high into the beautiful blue sky, roots twisting deep underground, its leaves offering pleasant shade for those who want it. The towering buildings of the city can be seen in the distance, yet the hold no power here. They hold no worth, over powered by the sheer natural surroundings. Surroundings that hold magic in its veins. Has the ability to create, and also has the power to destroy.

It's funny how it feels like every significant moment of our relationship seemed to have played out here in this meadow. From start to finish, this was always the back drop of all our different stages, all our different emotions, the love that we felt and how it changed.

A lonely spring morning, you walking up to me with a tulip plucked from the ground in your hands, a stranger with bright mischievous dancing grey eyes, black hair falling onto you face resting on your cheekbones, while your irresistible jaw moved with the bite of your gum, and your soft pink lips curving upwards into your nearly ever present half grin as if you always knew something I didn't.

Those sweet, awkward spring evenings, filled with picnic hampers, long conversations, spilt water, first kisses, fumbling hands, bright eyes and self conscious giggles and chuckles.

Hot, half nude, summer afternoons, filled with sweet nothings and lazy caresses, and languid kisses. The sun burning around us, beneath the protection of the ancient Oaks.

Those late, burning summer days filled with water fights, bright laughter, impromptu games of "your-it" and mock fighting ending with writhing hands dancing and tickling over soft flesh, breathless voices unable to laugh anymore.

Cool summer nights, on our backs, heads together with the prickly grass beneath us, noticeable even after the blankets and coats we laid on. Staring up at the bright stars each lost in thought till you would hold my hand with yours and trace the outline of a star formation that would never manage to stick into my head.

Autumn evenings, harsh words exchanging, the wind blowing furiously around us, howling into our ears mixing with the shouts and yells of our hoarse voices, leaves flying into our hair, and blazing eyes and words out of place in the quickly chilling night as the sun slowly retreats, taking the little warmth it provided with it.

Rainy days, clothes plastered to our skins, rain mixing with the salty tears falling down my cheeks, your eyes shining brightly with your own unshed tears.

Cold, bitter winter mornings filled with empty spaces, frozen silences – So silent you could hear the dull roar of the motorway on the other side – soft sighs, stiff frozen blades of grass being trampled beneath our feet, my tears freezing before leaving the warmth of my eyes. Your grey eyes unnervingly blank, lips for once in straight line, tongue peeking out to wet the dry chapped skin. Eyes catching the others then quickly looking away at the grey surroundings, sun obscured by the stormy clouds. That last stiff hug and cold peck on my forehead. The image of you walking away, back turned, shoulders hunched, hands deep in your pockets and head down. Turning back once, when you're at the edge of the meadow, too far for me to read your expression. Then you turned and step away from the magical meadow – its magic already drained – and into the artificial concrete jungle that we call home.

But here once again, I can almost believe that the magic has returned, making the air cackle and spark in tune with the tweet of the jaybird and I turn slowly taking in the view that haunts my dreams. I had thought that we had used up all the magic, unable to hold onto our love any longer. Yet here, so many years later on a similar lonely spring day it seems like nothing ever changed. I almost imagine you walking up the hill with a pink tulip in you hands, stolen from the flower beds. My eyes scan the horizon before I can stop, but it's useless anyway; there is no one here but me. A sense of sadness and yearning fills my chest yet I push it away determinedly.

I once again look up to the sky and let the sunrays embrace me. I feel a tingly feeling in my bones and I feel an inexplicable urge to twirl to the tune of the birdsongs, in the comforting sunlight, cool grass beneath my feet. So I do. I raise my face towards the light, my arms outstretched and I twirl. Round and round, the sensitive soles of my feet caressing the grass blades beneath. The hem of my dress bellowing out with the wind as I shout out my joy of simply existing into the spring air, letting the laughter bubble out of my throat, my eyes squeezed tight in elation. I twist and turn until I'm breathless with laughter, bent over, hands on knees, exhilarated in the feeling of pure freedom.

I can do anything I want to do here surround my soaring trees; I can be whoever I want to be. Yet…I straighten up the smile falling from my lips. Yet all I want to do is be with you. I look to the edge expecting you to be striding towards me, a smirk on your lips as you watched me twirl. And I want you to be there…to be walking towards me, your hair falling messily on your face. I turn desperately, searching for movement, any sign that you are here. I almost think of you hiding behind the thick tree trunks and I run towards them, hope entering my eyes as I think of you jumping out with a tulip outstretched a full blown grin on your face. Yet when I reach the biggest tree trunk, I circle it twice yet you aren't there. I look around me again, climbing up the hill for the best vantage point, my right hand on my forehead shielding my sight from the bright winking sunlight. Tears come to my eyes out of frustration. Where are you hiding? Why are you hiding?

And then I swallow painfully and I am hit with a deep raw pain in my heart. I cry out – a half gasp and half sob - and clutch myself hard, trying to keep the pieces of my heart as they shatter into pieces finally accepting that there is no way you will be here. I will never see your endearing half smile again, I will never witness the tenderness in your sparkling grey eyes as you brush a curl away from my face, I will never see your jaw moving up and down as you chew – my eyes fixated on the movement. You will never teach me the star formations ever again. I will never feel your soft lips upon mine.

Tears stream down my face and the warming rays of the sun do nothing for me anymore. The grass beneath my feet seem to shrivel up with my touch and all of a sudden the magnificent Oaks don't look so impressive anymore, and the birdsongs seem off tune. And the magic fades out of the meadow. It's gently rising hills seem ordinary and out of place, surrounded by concrete and urban jungles rather than the towns looking puny and out of place near the meadow.

I choke out a sob, my knees buckling onto the sharp blades of grass and I kneel, my arms clasped tightly around myself and I cry out into the hypocritical blue sky. I yell with pain, sadness, yearning, and loss. I yell at the meadow around me. I shout to bring back the magic. I scream my self hoarse, my throat rubbed like sandpaper till I can't scream anymore, I cry until there are no tears left and my eyes are rubbed raw and red. My body racks with sobs and shudders till I have no energy left and my forehead touches the sharp blades of grass. In the bowed position. The position to pray. Yet I can't. I won't. The magic is gone. It can do nothing anymore.

I said before, this Meadow that once held magic that was the catalyst for everything we felt and once again it is the backdrop of emotions. Yet there is no magic anymore. Just an outpouring of emotion because the magic has gone. Because it cannot fix our relationship anymore. Beyond help.

I breathe slowly, deeply, painfully, my breath moving the grass, my heart shattered in my ribcage and the sun starts to burn my bare neck. And slowly I gather myself, and slowly stand, the grass feeling damp and slimy beneath my bare feet and the sunlight simply exuding nothing more than chemical heat. I brush my hair away from my face looking around at the magic less meadow one last time before I turn and head towards reality. I don't look back, my legs striding down the hill, picking up my black pumps on the way. I hesitate on the edge, resisting the urge turn my head. I breathe deeply; close my eyes as I step out, my simple black dress giving the last twirl in the light breeze before settling down as I leave the once magic meadow behind in favour of the suffocating man made jungle in front of me. And I know that as I leave, I will never be back again. The meadow was there for a time of magic and that time has gone. For me anyway. And for you. For us.