All her life, she’d breathed in sunshine and flower petals that had sprung from her laugh.
He was a tricky character.
Dressed in attempted indifference and forced independence--he was so
different,
exotic, almost.
And her flower petals grew into fat blossoms.
And she knew. She knew that blossoms bloom the fullest at their peak,
just at the point where there is nowhere else to
go, but down.
And she knew
That the more he brought her roses the more she wilted,
for he was too much, sometimes, for her petals to bear the weight
and he was too far, sometimes, for her sunshine to reach.
But it didn’t seem to matter to her
and she kissed his cheeks as she shed her petals
and told him

Darling, do you know-
the more you bring me flowers, the more I lose myself?
But that’s okay because
I lose myself in you.