- Catching you sneak a glimpse at me from your bedroom window this morning.
- Writing you this note. It makes me feel like I still get to talk to you, even though you blocked me everywhere. Seriously, baby, unblock me. I miss you.
- Loving you. Spending my days loving you makes every day great by default.”
I find myself in a cycle of desperation. Each day, I send flowers to her, hoping to reignite a connection that feels more distant with every passing moment. Watching her struggle with my gifts
I remember the last time I saw her. After a long day at work, I decided to swing by her house, my heart racing as I approached the door. I could almost picture her reaction when she opened it, the way her eyes might widen at the sight of the peonies
“Honey, if you don’t speak to him, he’ll just keep sending you flowers,” her mom said, a knowing smile on her face
“Donate them,” she snapped back, frustration clear in her voice
I knew they’d been donating my flowers to charity, yet somehow, new bouquets appeared each day. I could almost hear her thoughts: How does he know peonies are my favorite? Was that part of his background check too? But it wasn’t a game to me; it was a plea for her to see my feelings
“I had the staff put the bouquets with notes on them in your bedroom,” her mom added, and I felt the tension in the air
“You should’ve thrown them out,” she replied, her irritation evident
I could picture her entering her room, overwhelmed by the sight of dozens of bouquets cluttering her space. I imagined her kneeling, reaching for one, and reading the card with the words I had poured my heart into
“The three best things that happened today were the following:
When she approached me, I was leaning on my car and straightened as soon as I saw her
“Axel, you need to stop coming here,” Her voice firm
“No.”
“I’m not giving you a choice,” she shot back, arms crossed defiantly
“Baby, you’re underestimating how far I’ll go to catch a single glimpse of you,” I replied stubbornly