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I just really want flowers.

Lately, I’ve been stuck with men who think bouquets are a capitalistic way of expressing love. It’s too expensive. We can’t eat it. He’d rather spend the money on date food. I get it, but there’s something about receiving a bouquet of grandiose flowers that makes me think that I’m special.

And I’m not talking about your typical Island Rose bouquet, pre-arranged and all. I’m talking about a bouquet with meaning. I’m looking for someone who will spend time looking for tulips, lilies, carnations, and stargazers–and put them together just for me.

It’s expensive and wilts after a week, tops. Admittedly, it really is a waste of money. But isn’t that one of the many facts of love? You know it’s irrational and impractical, but you do it anyway. Because you want your significant other to feel loved; you think she’s worth spending a lot for something so useless, if only to see her eyes light up.

And I’ve yet to find someone who will think of me that way.