Four weeks (a month) had passed with no flowers.
This was the week that I had given up completely on him,
Whoever he was.
I realized that if he didn't care,
then I didn't have to either.
The flowers had officially rotted.
A smell radiated from them,
But the notes?
I kept those at the bottom of my bag.
I read them every time I felt lonely.
After all,
paper can't rot.
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"i genuinely love you all and the fact that some of you aren't doing so great at the moment really upsets me."
~my lifesaver
