Never forget a promise

Never forget a promise.

I was walking home one beautiful day. The sun lightly hugged the earth and the clouds played across the summer sky. I had not walked far until something caught the apple in my eye. It was a flower, and a beautiful flower at that. A flower that was hidden in a shady corner of an old broken house, it was a promise flower. It was stuck in an old flower basket, probably by some old woman many years back and then forgotten. It was a sight to see, every petal, every leaf perfect, but surrounding this promise were a myriad of weeds, each wanting to soak up every last drop of water that happened to fall in this little old basket. Something seemed almost divine about this flower. Though it was forgotten by the very hands that planted it, though it was surrounded by a forest of weeds, each trying to make this flower wilt, each trying to steal the beauty of this flower for itself, this flower, though it was stuck in a cold dark corner, still prospered. This promise still stood tall, stood strong and stood like a masterpiece. Every petal, every leaf, every stem was a defiance to the world that didn't want it. So I walked over to that flower and picked off every weed that besieged this promise, and threw them to the ground. I took this flower out of its lonely pot and carefully placed it into a vase I found nearby, one that until now had been occupied by a pompous sunflower. All the while, I was careful not to break this promise. This beautiful flower, long ago forgotten by time, now sat in a beautiful jade green vase. Then I took this promise in its new home and placed it on the front porch of this old house, in front of the door and wrote a little note that simply read "you should never forget a promise". I took a promise flower from the side, rang the doorbell and walked away. As I began to walk I remembered that not long ago I planted a promise myself. A promise that I would never forget you. I haven't forgotten you, you're unforgettable. You are just as beautiful and just as resilient as a thousand promises.

As I continued on with my long walk home, I came across a soccer field where there was a group of about 7 kids playing soccer. They were only eight or nine years old, and still had trouble controlling the ball. I must confess, I laughed whenever they fell down trying to kick the ball.

"I'm going to hell for laughing at this," I thought to myself with a chuckle. It reminded me of when we used to play soccer. You would always find a way to slip past my corpulent body with your lion-like reflexes. I remember how we used to play out behind that old church that we never went to. You, myself and a few other friends spending hours at a time, beating the crap out of each other trying to get the ball to the other side. I remember all the cuts, bruises, and gashes the concrete Serengeti gave us; they were almost like war scars. You probably had more than me, after all, you were the accident prone one. As the memories flew by in my head something hit me, a soccer ball to be exact. I was surprised how hard these kids kicked, seeing as it leveled me to the ground. When I got back up, I covered up the embarrassment the only way I knew how, by laughing like a madman. After that, I dusted myself off and I kicked the ball back to them and somehow got involved in their game. These kids gave me a run for my money. After what felt like an eternity of torment, I  left. I was battered and bruised from a game of soccer with these super children from main street. "If only you could have been there, we could have dominated them," I thought to myself.

After an hour I realized that I had a previous engagement to attend to; namely, a home to go to. I bade the children farewell and walked off the field. The pain I had from playing now burned through my body almost as if my body was trying to say "I TOLD YOU SO!" The soreness, the scratches, the bruises, and worst of all, the pain of losing to a gang of kids half my age reminded me of something else. It reminded me of how much it hurts now that you're so far away. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder but personally I would be fond of closing the distance and locking it away forever, but time moves on, and so I did reluctantly, marking ever step with a mental "ow". I was on my final approach. I walked past the big black gate adorned with morning glories and walked up to where you were resting quietly. Row 16 B, beneath a cold granite stone. I sat down in front of where you were resting,  careful not to disturb you. "Hope your resting peacefully," I said, as I bent over and placed my promise in front of the gray granite gravestone and sat quietly looking out at a couple of blue birds singing a nice little song in the twilight hour. After a long pause I finally spoke with a brittle voice, "I never break a promise. Happy birthday." I got up with a tear in my eye and walked to my house. It's funny, you know, after all this time, you still make me smile every once and a while. I still can hear your quirky laugh echoing in my head and all at once I feel something that's hard to describe. A bittersweet smile.

As I walk home, I hear this song playing in my head as I relive our best memories.


I MISS YOU
(open this then read)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lyu1K…