i wanted to save the flower because it was the prettiest.
i always save one flower from a bouquet.
even though i haven’t received many.

it’s been two weeks so these are dry already, run out of water, nearly dead. i choose the one i wish to keep and the petals are falling off in my hands. i think of how i apologized for this – how i know i ruined this idea of flowers by forcing it, how i was not appreciative enough. i am sorry. i meant i was sorry and i’ve already put the work into making up for it, into doing something special for you.

i want to rid my office of this reminder, because i cannot cry here.

the petals are falling off in my hands. it is a shame, that i can’t save this one – i shake them off to save them elsewhere. they are so dry – they were not attached anymore. they fell off with the slightest of shake.

the very center petals, though, the ones that are still wrapped tightly even when the flower is in bloom – they are wrinkled but they are still damp, connected. i pull them off.

i save it all in a small clear box. i put them in and i think again how that middle, that center, still had a bit of life.

i wonder if we do too.