We Were Blue // Completed

28//

"But then I hold myself back, because I knew I'll be burned too, once I start a fire that matches you."

-Unknown

* * *

When I was a little girl I went to my Grams house every week. It was a tradition per say, or rather an escape from my mother, but Grams didn't necessarily know that. Or maybe she did, she always seemed to know everything before it happened. 

The home was a small cozy cottage, just outside of town and on the edge of the forest. She was warm and sweet and I always remember wondering how my mother came to be such a wicked witch of the west with a role model like her. In our spare time she'd tell me tales of her younger days, back when she was wild and free and got into all kinds of trouble. 

On one particular day we were sitting outside on the steps of her worn wrap around porch. She always told me it was her favorite part of the home because it gave character and brought out a certain southern charm that was often missing in the west coast town.

It was the brink of fall and school was about to start but the air was as humid as ever. It blew and the smell of evergreen trees and fragrant flowers came with it, along with a subtle tint of salty ocean breeze. I was enjoying the songs of the birds, they played a melody different from what they do over on the east coast. It always seemed more relaxed to me, and laid back, unlike the hustle and bustle of the town I live in now that seems to leak into the birds around me.

Suddenly she gripped my hand, her bony fingers digging into my youthful skin. I turned in question, wondering what the sudden urgency was about. "Baby girl," She uttered, her eyes pointed straight at mine yet they couldn't have been any further away. "After today I'm afraid I won't see you for a long while. I wish it weren't this way, but your mother thinks I'm a bad influence on you." 

When she got upset the slight southern twang she acquired from growing up in Georgia would make an appearance, and in that moment it was heavier than I had ever experienced before. "When it's time, you'll come visit me. I'm sure of that, and trust me baby I will welcome you with open arms, whether it's a year from now or ten- that will never change." 

She smiled sadly at me, the wrinkles surrounding her eyes deepening. Picking up the glass of tea planted next to her, she took a sip. She always told me coffee was too bitter, but tea was just the right amount of sweet. 

Her eyes narrowed as she glued her gaze onto something in front of her, seriousness overtaking every inch of her face. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice, the very same advice I gave your mother when she was younger. Only she didn't listen so well and I hope for your sake you will," She set the cup down, the ice cubes clinking against the transparent glass as she did so. 

Turning to me, she blew out a shaky breath, it smelt like the spearmint candy she was always offering me. "One day you'll meet a boy. He'll be as smooth as the devil and make you knees go weak simply by the way he says your name. And trust me you'll know he's a bad idea, that little sinking feeling at the pit of your stomach will tell you that much."

She reached out and tucked a piece of loose hair behind my ear in the kind of gesture that made me realize my lack of mother was made up for by my Grams. "Don't ignore that feeling baby," She continues. "Not even if your heart beats on overdrive when he's near and butterflies swarm your tummy at the way he looks at you. Don't ignore what you deep down know to be true."

I was so innocent and naive when she told me this so I disregarded it at first. And only when Julian flashed his dazzling almost perfect smile at me tonight, did the words suddenly have meaning. When he walked out of my door, all I wanted was to be back at that little cottage again, to have my Grams advice on the strange boy I'm now somehow mixed up with.