I think she is the only woman I know who doesn’t like roses.
“Yes, it’s pretty but it’s a devil in disguise! Those shitty little thorns prick you like hypodermic needles yo!”
Yes, she’s snarky like that.
So I gave her daffodils not just because yellow is her favorite color but also because… it was her. She wasn’t lavish like a rose but she’s not delicate as an orchid and she's definitely not common as daisy.
Yes, she was simple, but she was head strong, funny, graceful yet like I said... a little snarky.
And yes, she IS beautiful.
She was one of them that can make you smile even on your lowest day. She was bright yellow and all sunshine… like a daffodil.
With a sigh I watch her smile as she gently place the vase that held her flowers on her window sill, biting my lower lip, wishing that I could tell her.
See, she doesn’t know it’s from me.
Because I can’t tell her.
Not yet.
One day I will.
But not today.
One day I will have the courage to man up and tell her how I feel.
One day I will tell her that I love her.
But until that day … I will just keep being her friend ... I will just keep sending her flowers … keep sending her daffodils.