Wishing on Dandelions

You once threw some glitter up in the air and told me to stand under it because I told you I like glitter. You said I shine just like it, only that I don’t smile enough to show it.
I wanted to take you to my favourite tiny cafe for tea, but you told me to take you places that mean something to me.
So I took you to the book store where I bought my first erotica. I took you to my house, and stood outside, pointing towards my bedroom window where I sit at 3 am and write. I showed you the place where my first dog was buried and made you sit with me under the tree, that I still think is at least 100 years old.
You showed me the burn scars on your back that came from when your father stubbed his cigarette buds on you when you were 4. You told me about how your mother finally gathered enough strength to leave him when you were 6. You told me about your unwavering faith in Heaven and Hell and how people like your father end up in Hell even before they die.
I told you about the blade that lived in my bedside drawer and ran on my skin when I didn’t feel things. I told you about how much I wanted to get a tattoo to cover up three of the many jagged scars on my arms. You told me not to think about it twice and wear my art on my skin and get as many tattoos I want.
You took me to the lone stone bench at the end of the forest road where you smoked pot for the first time. You rolled a joint and pressed it between my lips. The lone stone bench then became the place where we both smoked pot for the first time. That evening in the light of the setting sun I saw your eyes turn from a light brown to golden beautiful hazel, that told me things about you which never escaped from your lips.
One Summer afternoon I took you to the old empty house I talked about, because it had a beautiful wild garden with dandelions scattered all around and strangely enough, a statue of a dog.
You told me that if we wish on the season’s first Dandelion, it gets fulfilled. I didn’t make a wish then
But now, every Summer I wish on Dandelions. Out of all the things that I could wish for, I wish for you, since now you can’t. I wish for you that you find the Heaven you believed in so much, wherever that is.