book pressed flowers

I found dry pressed roses whilst cleaning my book shelf today.It was still as beautiful  regardless of the fact that I forgot about them.Some things are just like that ..they do not seek approvals in order to be beautiful.

Even if they re forgotten by others they keep their identity safe ….so that anyone who finds them knows they always were just like they are now…maybe a little brighter and breathing but still as bold as they are without making noise or asking for attention.


I remember,you gave them to me.

You are the only boy who has ever gifted me flowers.

Flowers for no occasion.

Flowers for being such a significant girl with nice knees.

Flowers for spending time with you.

Flowers for being me……..

You just knew how to treat girls didn’t you!

You told me all I wanted to hear.

All that I did not have the chance to hear before because in all that I heard before I just heard ,”You are not worth it!”

But you..YOU ……….you gave me flowers infinite flowers,perfectly cut,fresh smelling…more attractive than stars……..and I did not have a vase to keep it anywhere so I sun-dried it in my balcony until I could press them in my diary where no-one  else could see.

Then you slowly started giving me less flowers….until you eventually forgot …(or maybe you thought I had had enough of them already)

Maybe I was more needy than I thought I was.

I needed constant reminder from an outsider and approval to be someone I wanted to be…maybe I would not do things without a backup plan and not accept my thorns…maybe deep down inside I accepted that I was not worth it…that I would never be found in between forgotten books and give a feeling of joy to whoever found me even if I was gone..

Maybe that is why I started hating flower shops so much because I adored being given flowers so much

Your name which was once my time is now an alarm clock to remind me that just because  you start getting used to things you do not have to depreciate it as much..the law of diminishing marginal utility is not applicable to humans because humans are not to be used…humans are supposed to be friends…

At a certain point in life I did not want to get used to anyone…I did not want to get close to anyone…what if I start depreciating them like you depreciated me?

But then again…..I would rather consider you a lesson than a mistake…that way I would learn instead of regret…your gift reminded me that I should not be seeking for approval for anything I am or want to be..

It is crazy how simple things like dry pressed flowers in a diary you don’t write on anymore can make you realize what you once were and what you ought to be …..

even if it is dead

It is amazing how beautiful things remain beautiful if you keep them safe.If you let them be.Unlike you and me it still remained beautiful regardless of how forgotten it was.

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