Picking Petals

Things come and go like the wind but the memory will last forever.

The crisp red daisies that I received from lance still sat in a vase in my room. Even though they had wilted and their dry petals were scattered on my bedroom floor, I still wanted to keep them. Part of me was just too lazy clean them up but for the most part, I wanted to remember. I wanted to remember Lance’s sweet gesture towards me. I wanted to remember his mystifying brown eyes. I wanted to remember the first time we met. I never wanted to forget that day.