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July 7 - July 7, 2025
“I didn’t ask about every other woman; I was asking about you.”
I swore he wanted to kiss me, but—
“I think that makes you the most compassionate man on the planet.”
“I don’t regret it. I don’t regret not having a social life. But what if it has made me lame? It’s like I’ve forgotten what I want out of life because I’m so worried about them every second of the day. I’m so worried something’s going to happen to them.”
But you know that part in the romance movies when the main character does something that they obviously shouldn’t have done, and the audience is practically screaming at them not to do it, and then they go and do it anyways? This felt like one of those moments. But I was trying to do the right thing
Daisies actually. He was carrying a bouquet of daisies. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought me flowers.
“I’ll buy you flowers every day for the rest of my life if it makes you this happy.”
“I will buy you more if they get ruined.”
“We made it for you.”
“For me?”
I’d rather live through romance movies and be single than have a bunch of average dates.”
want an all-consuming love. Not one that suffocates, but one that makes me so thankful that my chest feels physically overwhelmed with emotion. To have this silent, unspoken communication with a person through touch and gazes.”
“I want to be noticed in a crowded room. I want to be the only person in a crowded room. I want to be wanted, truly wanted, and desired. I want to laugh and to sing and to dance with someone and not feel self-conscious over it because I love them and I’m confident that they love me. I want to be touched and kissed and held because I’ve forgotten what it feels like … and yet, I think I deserve it.”
“Are you in love now?” he
“I missed you.”
“I missed you,”
“Why did you ask me?”
“Because I needed an excuse to see you again.”
“Why?”
“I could write a book on why.”
“Dieu, aide-moi,”
“You do deserve it, to be loved. You deserve it more than anyone.”
“What about the day he called to ask me for my strawberry shortcake recipe?”
“Doesn’t love you, huh?”
“That’s it! That’s it! Picking Daisies on Sundays
I assumed you hated me for being overbearing, so I gave you space. But then I spent weeks calling and texting and knocking on your door, and you refused to speak to me.”
“Whenever you mentioned my feelings towards her, I let you assume because I thought that made you more comfortable with being around me. That maybe you needed proof that I wouldn’t try to take anything to an intimate level while we pretended to date. But then we kissed, and it
stopped before it could’ve started when you mentioned Paris. I thought that was your way of telling me this couldn’t lead anywhere. And even if you wanted to include me at the time, I… I couldn’t leave my family.”
My heart has been broken a million times by the same hand, yet I would let it happen a million times again if it meant it was by you I was weaker than I thought / my heart sagging like the stems of uncut, unkempt flowers because of the sunlight you held in your faraway heart / Maybe you weren’t mine to love / I think I’m falling
The wallpaper above her bed frame was glued in my brain the way it was glued against her walls / I got so close to running my fingers against it / I wish I felt the confidence to tell you the truth, as strongly as I felt stubborn to hide it Do you hear that? That’s my heart knocking against my chest at the sight of you / I’ve never heard anything more terrifying / how could you provide me air and suffocate me at the same time? Blue hydrangeas, pink tulips, red bleeding hearts / it’s all you ever loved, but never yourself / I never understood why anyone spoke poorly of the color brown, it was a
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Don’t worry if the flowers pass, I’ll be right there to plant you more / and when the soil grows old, I’ll comfort it in the chaos of the storm Am I a ghost in your story? / because you look at me with conviction when I don’t even know the crime I committed Burden me with your secrets / so I can carry the weight you’re so fearful of letting go To be close to you was to be haunted by what I couldn’t have and to be reminded of how much I truly wanted you / and I’d be lying if I said I never thought about where my hands would take me across your body Midnights and daydreaming hours of retracing
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I tried to stop loving you, but along the way, you found your way into the sound of my laugh, the style of my writing, and the threads of my clothes / I would’ve gone down on my knees just to hear you say yes Neck stiff, legs weak, eyes set on what we could’ve looked like if you hadn’t left / ‘moving on’ was a broken record that I never had the strength to lift the needle off of / If hearts were meant to love then why did mine feel so empty? / and suddenly, I fell Glances, gazes, eyes following places they shouldn’t have seen / intimacy was to be seen by you; free falling was to be touched by
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“The whole book,”
“Every poem in there is about you. Everything I wrote came back to you.” I tried to stop loving you, but along the way, you found your way into the sound of my laugh, the style of my writing, and the threads of my clothes.
“This is about me?” “Every. Single. Word.”
“I’m so grateful for everything I have in life, I am. But when I see you, all I can think about
is how much better life would be if you were mine. I’m so infatuated with everything you do, from the color of your lips to the way you slide your hips back and forth when you dance to the way you twist your earrings when you’re upset or how you blush when I touch you and how you breathe when I say Daisy
“That’s not fair. That was before I knew how you felt. Before I knew I could fly out to see you, and send you letters, and call you every day and tell you that I love you.”
“You love me?”
“I love you more than my heart can physically handle.”
“Say you love me,”
“I love you.”
“My favorite flowers were always daisies,”
I blushed before laughing. “I hate you,” I muttered. “You love me,” he argued. “I do,” I succumbed.
“Am I so much in love with him that all others seem ridiculous?”
“I’ve never felt this conscious of the beat of my heart before, it was like it was sleeping without you,” he whispered. I
“I’ve never seen this logo before.”
“That’s because I sewed it in.”
“You did this?”
“I thought I’d put my sewing skills to practice again. I wanted you to have something that was just yours. Which now that I’m saying it, sounds ridiculous, because you design clothes for a living—”
