Lotus

by Jennifer Hartmann

To the lost and the wandering— You will find your way.

but Lord help me, I want him to remember everything. Every single detail from our magical childhood that has been carved inside me, permanently engraved.

How could she be my Syd? My Syd was a fabrication. My Syd was an artificial companion brought to life by my insatiable need to quell the loneliness. I created her with the lead from my pencil tip and my own imagination. Queen of the Lotus.

Another slow nod. “You’re the only one I trust.”

But that’s not as captivating as the way the colors reflect in Oliver’s eyes as he stares in cautious wonder.

“There is beauty to be found everywhere… even in the things that scare us.”

Oliver has a special presence about him, one that is both captivating and addicting.

“Be courageous. Be confident. Be bold,” she says, her voice brimming with sincerity as she reaches for my hand once more. “Be red.”

Another pause before she departs. “You know, Charlene was always quite fond of you,” Lorna tells me through a squint, a trace of candor seeping into her voice. “I think she’d be happy to know you found your way back to each other.”

“No other man has ever come close to what you mean to me.”

“Something inside of me fucking died the day I lost you!”

You have no idea what you meant to me. What you mean to me.”

The smile he casts down on me is the beautiful crescendo. “Just let me hold you.”

But Oliver’s smile only swells as he lowers my cheek to his chest, his palm still cradling the back of my head like I am cherished—like I am his missing piece. “Nothing worth holding is ever too hard.”

“You make me feel like I’m… someone.”

“I’m right here, with you, and I’m still holding onto your heart. Please don’t ask me to give it back.”

And I love her, so entirely, so painfully… I always have. I tell her in the way I hold her, in the way I look at her, in the way I say her name. She is my favorite part of me.

Of course, I love her. I love her more than I love fresh air.

A pink lotus flower is painted along the bottom of the canvas, fading up into a fairytale scene: a little boy in overalls holding hands with a little girl with sunshine pigtails as they stand atop a grassy hill, watching fireworks light up the sky. Reds, blues, and violets are spattered across the top of the portrait, raining color and beauty down upon the storybook image. And sitting next to the little girl is an orange tabby, while a raccoon rests beside the boy. It’s us.

I hug her, cling to her, cherish her, my fingers twining through her hair while my mouth presses a kiss to her temple. “I won’t leave,” I murmur softly, tightening my hold. “I can’t… I can’t leave you, Syd.”

She is, by far, the greatest work of art.

“I love you, Syd. I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you until my dying day.”

“Yeah…” I murmur through my disappointment. “What did you wish for?” Sydney’s baby blue eyes twinkle brighter than all the stars in the sky. “Us.”

I wish for tomorrow and the tomorrow after that. I wish for all the tomorrows… with her.

I sniffle through the storm of tears, my attempts to loosen his ropes weakening as the smoke inhabits me, making me dizzy. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

I lean in to kiss her favorite spot, right in between her shoulder and her jawline. It’s a magnificent arch cased in silken skin and a speckling of freckles that resemble the Milky Way. Sydney doesn’t know this, but every time I kiss those tiny stars, I make a wish.

I nibble her lobe, whispering softly, “I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you until my dying day.”

“Oh, my God…” she rasps out. “Oliver… I didn’t write ‘lotus’. You were looking at it upside-down.”

sn + ol

With our initials on my arm and branded in my heart, I squeeze her tight, peppering kisses into her hair as I whisper words of love against her ear. Sydney Neville + Oliver Lynch It’s always been us.

Oliver’s mouth finds the sensitive stretch of skin along my neck, the place where he gives me “Milky Way kisses”,

She’s my hero. I have a lot of heroes in my life.

This year is just the beginning of an entire lifetime of fireworks, promises, and starry-eyed wishes.

“Sydney,” he says, linking my fingers through his unoccupied hand as he holds up the ring. Oliver finds my eyes, my weeping, lovesick eyes, and holds tight. “I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you until my dying day. You’re my best friend. You’re my queen,” he whispers, words spilling out like poetry. “Will you be my wife?”

We slow dance to the music of fireworks, the cheers from down below, and the beautiful beats of our hearts.

The Lotus will bloom into the most magnificent flower, even when its roots are in the murkiest of waters.

And it’s there upon our secret hill that we dance, we cry, and we fall in love all over again. It’s there we bloom.

The only thing that’s changed is Sydney’s role—The Queen of the Lotus. She is still my queen, but she’s no longer a damsel in distress. Syd is a hero, like me, and we defeat the villains side-by-side, hand-in-hand. She is my partner, my companion, my equal… the other half of my heart.

I press a tender kiss to her forehead and hold out my arm, my gaze dancing between hers and mine. Our matching tattoos smile back at us: sn + ol