a true story about sunflowers.

when I was three I married my best friend in the back room of my basement. I thought I was going to love him forever.

when I was five we planned all the names of the future offsprings we were going to have with this together. we were going to grow old together in the middle of a sunflower patch right next to the mountains.

when I was seven I moved 2,000 miles away.

when I was nine I wrote letters to my old love and we drew sunflowers and wrote the names of our children all along the edges of the yellow lined paper.

when I was eleven he flew down to see me. we played in the mississippi mudd and his older sister stuck lizards to her ears and then kissed my brother. and then I kissed my old love.

when I was thirteen we flew back to visit and met up in a sunflower patch. we listened to music and drew pictures all day long. he told me he still loves me. a decade later.

when I was fourteen he fell in love with the distance we created between each other.

when I was fifteen he fell in love with a girl who’s hair smelled like sunflowers. a girl who was no longer me.