The Power of Salvation by Passarelli Caterina

Author:Passarelli, Caterina [Passarelli, Caterina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-10-24T07:00:00+00:00

This day—as weird as it is—is not going to go to waste. I refuse to sit on my ass on my day off waiting for a man, any man, to “call me tonight” as his lame ass post-it note said. Bundled up in my winter jacket, I head over to the Art Institute of Chicago. I’m greeted by two giant lion statutes out front donning holiday wreaths around their green necks—a Chicago tradition.

Christmas is right around the corner. In the past I knew the date was near and would try to put the holiday out of my head—it only brings up pain from the past—but right now I don’t feel anything about it.

I look towards those silly lions and smile. This time it’s different. I finally let someone else in and now the weight of what happened to me isn’t so heavy to carry around. Before telling Luke, it was like a noose around my neck; now maybe it can be a holiday wreath too.

Before getting hypothermia standing outside on a cold night, I head inside to browse around aimlessly. I walk from room to room, collection to collection, just taking it all in. I want something to jump out at me, as a sign or something, but how childish does that seem? A sign, Ariana? You are not supernatural; I should have brought Lisa.

Nothing ‘speaks to me’ and I find myself standing next to people staring at the same paintings or statues, hearing them “oh” and “ah,” but I’m left wondering—what the hell do they see in this crap?

I’m just not in the mood tonight, feeling defeated that this trip really turned out to be a waste. I turn the corner to head towards the exit and I stop.

There’s a photograph hanging on the wall in black and white. Three women hold flowers, looking as if they’re picking off petal by petal like elementary school girls at recess. I step closer and see the words “He loves me, he loves me not” on the photograph and my heart stops. How beautiful, yet how heartbreaking all at once.

Why can’t it be as easy as picking off petals? Why can’t he just love me? Open up to me? Tell me what his battles are so I can slay them for him, or at least with him for god’s sake. Why does he have to be so stubborn?

But no. If I played this little girl’s game what would I end up with?

I look at my phone to see no missed calls or texts.

An empty flower.

He loves me not.

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