Where most people see weeds, I only see you—my beautiful wildflower, untamed and free. I flip over the embroidery circle to find a note taped on the back. His small yet elegant handwriting marks the page. I called you a wildflower the moment you showed up at my house with a bouquet of them. That day, I asked myself what kind of person would go picking those crazy flowers in the first place. I thought they were just inconvenient weeds, but now I have my answer after all the time we spent together. You might not realize it, but you’re a wildflower. You grow in the most unexpected places, no
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