Forget-Me-Nots

There once was a young man and woman who were very much in love. It had started out small, like a tiny seed, but as time moved on it grew in size and strength. For a while the couple dreamed their dreams of a life together, but one day the man was told that he had to leave to go to war.

The woman did not want him to go, and if he was honest, the man didn't want to go either, but he had to. The day of his departure got closer and closer, and soon the day was upon them. The woman whispered a teary goodbye into his ear, sobbing out 'what-ifs' and 'don't gos'. The man's response was only a kiss on the top of her head, and a request.

"All I wish is for you to not forget me."

He left not long after, going off to fight in a war he never wanted to be a part of. For months he trained and fought and suffered through what seemed like an endless agony, but he wasn't entirely miserable. Every now and then, he would see or hear something that reminded him of her, and for a moment, no matter how brief, his heart would soar.

Despite his hardships, he became friends with many of the men, but one younger man in particular he became very close to. They talked of many different subjects, but more often than not they talked of home. He told him of his home, but more importantly the woman that he loved.

One day they were supposed to head into battle. It was supposed to be easy, "an ambush" their commanders had told them. It was not. They didn't last more than an hour, and by the time the younger man found his friend, he was already half gone.

"Tell her to not forget me-not-" he stuttered out his words, but the younger man knew their meaning and he held the other man as he breathed his last breath.

The war dragged on for a year until finally, they won. Many men were going straight home to their families, but not the young man, the young man had something to do first.

As soon as he arrived back to the country, he made his way to the home of his best friend's love, only stopping to pick a handful of wildflowers from the side of the road. This was not the sort of meeting you went empty-handed to.

His heart almost stopped as he rapped on the door, and his breathing was shallow as he waited. Finally the door opened, and for a moment, the young man could see a small sparkle of excitement in her eyes, before it disappeared. She had been expecting someone else.

She let him in and offered him tea, which he refused, instead telling her his message. He watched as she broke, and despite the lapse of propriety he comforted and held her.

The flowers were forgotten until almost the very end, at which point they could barely do their job of cheering the woman up.

The man was about to leave when the woman asked him something. She asked him the last words that her love had said. He told her, and as he walked away, trying not to curl in his own shoulders in grief, he heard her whisper the words back to him.

"Forget-me-nots." But when he turned to look at her, she was staring at the flowers.