A Flower’s Untold Story

Every flower has a unique story behind it; whether a tragic story of murder, misfortune, jealousy, or perhaps the polar opposite. However, each and every love had to start somewhere.

Perhaps it started at a hospital where memories seemed evanescent and the only comfort he could obtain, came from the crushed arbutus in his palm.

Maybe it started with the little boy who showed her so much kindness by giving her the pink camellia and his disappearance from her life a few days later.

Had it started after a devastating break-up that caused him to retrace his steps and his reoccuring memories of a withered red camellia on the road side pavement?

 What if it began with a pink carnation reluctantly being placed into the hands of a girl whose engagement had been broken off due to unknown circumstances?

Could it have possibly begun when her absence in his life left him to realize he couldn't go on without her and the memory of her smile when she handed him a red carnation from her own garden?

Perhaps it started with the cyclamens and letters left to hang at his doorstep the day after his suicidal girlfriend's funeral. 

 Could it have begun when his luck began to change after nearly being struck with a daffodil filled flower pot and the realization that without his 'lucky charm' he was both unlucky and unhappy?

Maybe it happened during her engagement party, when her husband-to-be wasn’t the one showing his affections with the lovely gloxinas.

Was it the bouquet of primroses given to her by her hospital room mate who had unknowingly saved her life and she his?

Perhaps it had begun in high school when two opposites bent down to pluck the same blue violet from the school’s garden.

Had it started during a marriage neither family approved of and the feeling of growing apart only to be changed by the white violets that reminded them why they loved each other in the first place?

Or was it the zinnias that told the story of a lost love waiting to be found?

What if her story began with the elderly florist who handed her the heliconia and her growing fear of what she dreaded most had discovered her whereabouts?

Maybe it didn’t end after death, for no one except the lone agaranthus had witnessed the lies, deceit, and secrets kept by his ex-girlfriend and her former husband.

Was it the secret rendezvous with an off-limit girl that drove a wedge bewteen best friends and her undying love for her favorite flower, gardenias?

Had it started when he was given a kalanchoe by his dying girlfriend and his promise to fulfill her final wish of finding a love to last him a lifetime?

Could it have been the yellow tulips that helped mask the pain behind his feigned smiles and kind actions towards others?

Maybe  it began on a starry night when two wishes were coincidently granted in a garden of phlox flowers. 

Perhaps it didn’t begin with one person who had been scorned, but two girls who wanted to leave the past behind, and a small home exchange site decorated in lily of the valleys and strawflowers.

Each and every love had to start somewhere. And for a select few, it all began with a single

flower.