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"Do you remember the plan we talked about, Colorado, and all the sunflowers?"
Beaus voice came out of the darkness next to me, startling me nearly off the banister. His hand reached out to steady me in the darkness, as if he could see my surprised reaction. My heart beat hard and fast in my chest and my mind swirled recklessly.
I did remember the plan he spoke of, we had been lying in his bed, the shades drawn and the room dark, everything a shadow, our bodies intertwined together, our hands lacing and unlacing as we whispered back and forth. We would run away to Colorado, we would buy a small farm where we would plant fields of sunflowers for me, and behind that, fields of pot for him. A small white house with a swinging bench on the porch would sit in the center. Every morning would be a lazy one, we would sleep late, enjoying a breakfast of wine and cupcakes in bed after which wed make love in the heat of the daylight streaming through our open windows before finally getting up. We would sit on our porch and watch the sunset over the sunflowers in the evenings, whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears while we sipped sweet tea and smoked the pot we grew.
The harrowing story of one woman's journey of love, loss, and finding the passion in life again.