Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • This aint really a story about much more than flowers.

    We'd been dating a couple months and decided it wouldn't work out. But I missed him right away. I waited a few days and called him. He showed up within the hour, holding flowers.

    We dated a full year and he gave me flowers. I forgot to show how much I appreciated them (I really did, I guess my face just didn’t show it) and I think he felt sad.

    Years later I got him flowers. They were pretty—it was the anniversary of his mum’s death. I spent a good chunk of change on that bouquet.

    Valentines Day – things weren’t going well in the relationship. He got me flowers anyway. Set them up on the kitchen table surrounded by petals and chocolate. I tried harder to show I appreciated them this time. But somewhere inside I think I knew we weren’t going to make it. They sure were nice flowers though.

    A year later we were finally over. There were no flowers that following year. We didn't speak.

    Then my best friend died. One day it was just too hard and I called him. He came by when I wasn't home and left flowers on my patio. The most beautiful yellow lilies I ever saw. I cried when I saw them, I think I appreciated those flowers more than any I ever got before. They were just so alive. They were two cubic feet of proof that there is something beautiful here on this planet.

    We became friends again. Those flowers sure started it. They were so perfect and fresh and innocent and good. How could flowers like that not lead to more good? We figured out we made pretty good friends, though the other stuff had been a mess. Friends was the sweet spot for us.

    His friend died yesterday. I went to the best flower shop in town and asked them to make up something special. White and green, I said. The florist was young and funky—she made something exotic—fresh, vibrant. Something fragile and alive and beautiful again. It smelled like life.

    I brought them to him.

    He smiled.

    “We sure are getting good at this huh?”
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.