A Non-Existent Existence
One thing that made Emily so distinguishable was her habit of always wearing something with flowers printed on it. Not the bright ones, but like those in the classic dreamy watercolor paintings of flowers with suspended colors. And her choice of flowers would always be marigold, tulips, and red roses. Seeing her in a floral dress could brighten anyone’s day up.
When asked, Emily would tell people with her contagious zeal that these flowers remind her of her late mother to whom she adored more than her life. Till right before Emily’s marriage, her mother and she used to spend afternoons in their backyard filled with flowers by talking about life and drinking soda.
Although, flowers were not the only thing that she held so close to her heart. Back in days, her father and she would go on a drive to the city to her favorite ice cream parlor. Instead of listening to songs on the stereo, they would sing along the songs of The Beatles and Frank Sinatra. It was her father who made her fall in love with the music.
At this point, anything Emily possessed had its strings attached to a distant memory of someone she adored. Her lavish mansion did not interest her much, she chose to live in a painfully beautiful corner of nostalgia, alone. You would often find her sitting alone in the front porch of the mansion and taking plunges into the ocean of memories and wonder on the pearls she would find from its bottom.
People used to give examples of her marriage. Her husband loved her a lot, and she loved him so much too. It was evident that she was not only a perfect wife but also a perfect mother. This flower-clothes-wearing and The Beatles-singing Emily was a woman you cannot help but admire. You give her love and she will give her entire life to reciprocate. This is what she did in this marriage too.
Emily was often alone but never sad. It was strange how a glance at her would make you smile but a little deep look will leave a mild pain in your heart. Fortunately, she seemed to be unaware of it.
If you look closely at Emily, you will find that she is still wearing the same patterns of flower prints on her dress and she still sings the same verse of Imagine from The Beatles. But that’s not it, she still drinks the same soda her mother and she used to drink, and she still uses the same phrases her father used to say. Even after 8 years of her marriage she still living the fragments of her that lied in the time before her marriage.
For Emily, love meant to give and provide. She was completely oblivious to the fact love could also mean to receive the love in return as well. She didn’t know that she deserves the love she kept giving away. In all these years of her marriage, she gave everything of herself away for the sake of love. The only part she kept to herself was nostalgia and memories.
When the times were tough, it was Emily who wiped the tears off the face of her husband and offered a shoulder, put on a happy face and helped her children with their homework. It was her who would always make sacrifices of her priorities to put someone else’s first. Because according to her, this was love.
If you’re a good observer, you will see Emily the daughter, Emily the friend, Emily the mother, Emily the wife. But sadly, you wouldn’t find Emily. You’ll see the flowers on her dress, songs she keeps singing, her care for her kids, and passionate kiss for her husband, but you will crave to find Emily.
Emily borrowed colors from everyone she met in her life and painted her canvas of life with them. She painted it from corner to corner. To be honest, it was the most magnificent painting you have ever seen. But, unfortunately, it was the canvas that held the evidence of Emily’s existence, not the colors.
When you look at the painting its surreal beauty makes you smile for a while, but when you look deeper it makes you feel the pain of a non-existent existence.