Flowers

Flowers are my favourite. They have a million meanings, yet don't necessarily show them off.

It takes one's quite some time to choose one for a specific moment. 

Not many people have gifted me flowers. I don't like that gesture anyways, not if they're not on a pot, carefully being themselves in their little enviroment.

Still, I yearn for someone to gift me sunflower.

It's stupid, but truly, I dream of that day. The day someone gifts me my favourite flower out of nowhere, just because they wanted to, telling me a simple "they remember me about you".

I would go crazy, and propably would do something stupid. I get a bit too eager when it's about sunflowers. I'm a sucker for them, for their meaning. The absolute emotional wreck I'd be would be inmense, and I'm glad noone knows my little longing besides myself.

It makes me giddy just thinking about it. I feel like a school girl again, trying to wear different flowers and colours of them in my hair, secretly stating emotions or words to the most observant ones.

The meanings behind them? I'm too forgetful, can't remember. But I had all of the colours, and loved the idea to let them do the small talk of my fluttering insides: yeah, I was an emotional teenager. Ugh.

Now, an adult, I wish I could have a flower crown of my own, made of special kinds of flowers, letting them decode my inner ramblings about life and secret, more personal things. 

Of course, it would have a tiny sunflower, somewhere. 

I'm still a sap it seems.