Love At A “Funeral”- Part One

He stood in an abandoned park,
his gaze fixed on a weak and creaky bench.
A bouquet of red roses hung loosely in his hand,
their fragrance mixing with the evening air.
This was where love once felt alive,
where weekends were filled with quiet joy.
Now, the park felt hollow, a reminder
of something he couldn’t let go.

They had shared so much here,
moments he thought would last forever.
But she had chosen someone else,
leaving him with an ache that refused to fade.
Months had passed, but time brought no relief,
only a deeper thirst for what was lost.
He came today not to mourn,
but to lay the memories to rest.

The flowers were a symbol of goodbye,
a final offering to what they once had.
He knelt by the bench, the cold ground beneath him,
and placed the bouquet gently at its feet.
His heart felt heavy, but he whispered to himself,
“This is the end. It has to be.”
The wind stirred the leaves softly above,
as if acknowledging his quiet surrender.

As he began to rise, something stopped him.
A shift in the air, a feeling he couldn’t place.
He looked up and saw her,
not the woman who had left,
but someone new, unfamiliar and yet…
Her presence pulled at him,
a strange warmth filling the emptiness.
She stood still, watching him with intent.

Her eyes seemed to hold a story,
one that called to his conflicted heart.
He didn’t know her name,
but the silence between them felt alive.
It was as if time had paused for them,
as if the world had created this moment.
His breath caught, and for the first time in months,
he felt the faintest spark of something new.

To Be Continued…