Like Freshly Cut Grass (Stand Alone)
I gathered more clippings in my hands, exhilarated with revelations of my past, epiphanies of my love for him. I threw them over my head, feeling them land in my hair but not caring how long it took me to coif it that morning. The moisture rained down on me, like little drops of past. I kicked back the biodegradable bag, pushing my small piles of clippings into one large one with a feverish determination. When I was satisfied with my makeshift nest, I headed towards him. My best friend, my boyfriend, my “fucking husband baby”. He didn’t even see it coming. My hand snaked around his waist, shutting off the motor with one final growl before I was dragging him away.
“A-Alex?” he questioned, confused and out of focus. I was messing with his rhythm, the normality our lives have taken on.
I said nothing, pulling on both his hands, walking backwards so I could coax him into following me. We reached the pile and he stared at it for a moment. He seemed unsure of my intentions until my feet were hooked behind his ankles and he went tumbling down. The strips of green stuck to every part of his exposed body, swimming into his hair and staining his clothes. I planted myself on top of him before he could get away, a small sigh escaping from his lungs upon impact.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, but I knew he found it amusing; even then that twinkle was present in those brown eyes of his.
“I j-just.” I tried explaining, but couldn’t so I took another handful of grass and pressed it to his cheek.
The frown on his face dissolved as my fingers massaged his face, “It’s all wet,” he observed.
I nodded with enthusiasm, “Yeah.”
“You’re so weird,” he chuckled lowly, “But I love you Alex,” he insisted. His eyes were misting over with certain cloudiness. I swear I could see myself, five years younger, reflected in them.
“I love you too.” I whispered, leaning down to see my mirror change, and suddenly there I was, how I look now, in those familiar irises.
He picked up his own handfuls of grass and tossed them lightly at my fast approaching face. I shook them away, feeling some stick to my skin.
“Hey!” I complained, but the smile wouldn’t dissipate.
“You missed one,” he informed me, his hands reaching to curl around the base of my neck.
“Get it off.” I instructed, pointing to the green blade to the edge of my lips.
“Kay,” came a breath before he removed the memory with his own lips. And suddenly everything that has ever happened was irrelevant. There we were living in a moment that contained nothing but him and I. There was no pressure to finish the mowing the lawn, that the neighbours would spot us making out in our backyard or that we had work tomorrow. The future seemed as as far away as the past and yet I welcome it with open arms. At this point I know there is nothing that we can't take on, like the grass our love continues to grow.
A/N: This whole thing is fictional, but was based on something that happened to me last Monday, when I was picking up grass clippings. A lot of the insignificant details are based on my life, especially the setting. It's my real life backyard.
