My Muse: The Prologue(Regan) The blooming daisies sat in the ceramic maroon vase, set on the window stool. The sun shining through the closed curtains, as the white shade gave barely any dimness. I just sit on my bed, staring at the wall as I am still in my black dress from the mourning meeting many had to say goodbye to a loved one, a crumpled tissue is being squeezed within my fingers, and clenched into my palm. My throat closed up and burned from all the words I never spoke in my speech that never came out, as I couldn’t say the words I truly wanted to explain. I squeezed my eyes shut the moment I watched my vision blur, trying to prevent the wet drops of crystals to scrape down my face.

The memories flashed in my head as I thought of him. His handsome face smiling in my mind, with the dimples on each cheek just appearing. His smile always made me melt. It still does to this day. It’s one of the many things I miss about him. Then there were his charming blue eyes that looked like the waterfalls he would paint, and I would photograph. His smooth skin was ever so soft. I felt warm at his touch. Especially when I felt cold, and wore layers of hoodies and sweatshirts, even blankets, but only he could warm me when he held me close. His shiny, blonde hair, almost a white blonde, which I knew wasn’t natural, but it looked natural on him. Naturally, he was a brunette, but he dyed his hair the angelic light color, and I knew it was just him that could wear it and look amazing in every way. I miss those days when I could run my fingers through his hair as he held me up to his chest, my ear pressing against the very spot where his heart beat inside him. I miss his beating heart. I miss how much he made mine go rapidly against the walls of my skeleton. It no longer beats. It’s a still thing that couldn’t come alive again. Not long enough for him to say how much he loves me, one more time. When he could tell me how much he loves me with his angelic, pure voice. Although, it wasn’t pure. Not even close. He had his pain but he was such a strong person, and I know I need to be strong. It’s what he would want. He would want me to be strong, and bold. Confidence. Yet, he was my confidence.

“Daisy…” He would whisper to me. “When I’m gone.. I know, things will be hard, and different,” He mumbles, barely able to get his words out, “but you need to stay strong. For me. And, for yourself. All I want is for you to still have a big, real smile on your face, because you are happy. I want life to bring you as much happiness that you brought me. And you brought me so much happiness and more. I love you.” He would say.

His words echo in my brain, as I am lost in my train of thoughts. I opened my eyes and looked at the blooming daisies in the window. Just looking at them, brought me to that night.

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