𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 || Original Story

ten | missing

I never had much confidence growing up.

Typical of pretty much every child, I know.

I never found myself to be special either, despite the protests from my parents and teachers.

'You have so much potential', they used to whine. 'Why don't you go and do something with it?'

What they really meant was that I should have gone to university in one of the big cities just to say that I've spent three years and thirty thousand pounds on a degree.

What they really meant was that I should go and do what everyone else is doing and have some mundane job that pays fairly well, but makes you utterly miserable behind closed doors.

No, thank you.

I didn't have the mindset nor the physical or mental confidence to leave home and attend university anyway.

I couldn't just 'go out there and do it'. What a stupid thing to say.

Yes, I may be intelligent, but I wouldn't fit in no matter how hard I tried. 

I hated my ugly freckled skin, too, my awfully dark eyes, the frizzy mess I called hair, and my skinny arms. Nothing about me was good.

Only a pointless knowledge of flora.

I did, eventually, turn that around. I smartened myself up, making subtle changes to my appearances and making a true living out of what I loved most.

Flowers. Flowers. Flowers.

After years and years, I was finally confident with how I looked, but I when I looked at myself in the mirror I couldn't help but feel as though something was missing.

However, after much contemplation, I began to think that my situation ran deeper than just appearances.

I didn't have any brothers or sisters to rely upon to be my blood-tied best friend.

All but one of my cousins lived in Australia and I only saw them once a year, which makes me feel so detached to other family that aren't my parents.

If I'm being frank, I've led a lonely life up until now with only my old school friends and the village community to lean on.

Having such a large role in the community has filled the hole in my heart that my relatives couldn't fill.

Seeing the smiles on people's faces was enough for me. And whilst it's taken me some time to come to terms with such things, I know that this is the life I will lead.

I'd found solace within my little shop.

It's called Eufloria for a reason, after all.

Every morning when I opened up and saw all those beautiful, mesmerising flowers and plants, my heart soared and it was as if it was all just a reminder that I was still passionate about floristry and that I couldn't lose faith.

Seeing other people's faces light up with pure joy when looking at or receiving flowers was almost addictive for me.

Happiness was my drug of choice.

And I wished everybody I had ever met at least one day where they were nothing but happy.

And to find somebody who brought them nothing but sunshine and warmth.

I hoped one day I'd find that.