METAPHORS

When you are 25 (and a woman), you are too young to fear ageing yet too old to be too carefree about it…

This thought suddenly struck me while I was looking at my preserved bridal bouquet in a rather fetching wood and glass case. Wood and glass case. I didn’t want to think about it. But thoughts like words, lead to another until you come up with something totally unrelated yet expected. I’m a bit creeped out. My preserved bouquet in all its splendid beauty somehow looks…anomalous. Like an over-botoxed face. Everyone who can see it will know it's not natural. That it's not how it's suppoused to be. I’ve thought about its original snow white appearance and freshness on my wedding day and remarked on the similarity of its form in the glass case today. It’s ironic but the similarities actually enhance the differences. It is my bouquet, yet it isn’t. But somehow, I'm still able to see traces of it's former splendor.

I’ve thought about the extra honeymoon trip we could have spent on rather.

I still love it though. I fancy myself that I made a right decision of preserving the only bouquet that I would remember all my life. After all, I only had a few hours for a decision before it wilted out. Some things are meant to fade away to oblivion. We understand that truly, but somehow we want to hold on so fastidiously to something we know will eventually slip away. We grasp and hold on to it so fiercely as if that would keep things from going away, as they always do.

As they always will.