This time it was silence, jus like a beautiful flower which we never see bloom tho we know there’s a spring coming, amidst silence being chaos at times, it’s silence again at the end which brings calmness to the very chaos.
Flowers are so selfless, they’ll adapt to every occasion one intends to use them for, from dried petals in books to those who dried without hope on graves, either way they tell a valiant tale about the hands who held.
Many a times, we fail to understand the delicate nature of silence. I mean who on earth doesn’t wanna watch their girl caress her hair back and pin a flower to her head with those earring’s begging for a view, all of a sudden time seems to have slowed down as u sit there and watch it unfold, it’s overwhelming to the heart jus imagining it, isn’t it ?
Mhmm am I off topic again ? Maybe but meh who cares the thoughts about her anyways, let’s get back to the flowers. ..
She loved flowers, everytime we walked together I’d let her lead at times she’ll turn back flick her hair back and smirk at me saying walllkkk, hehe she’d be so cute when she does it I’d never utter a word jus a evil happy smile inside lol !! And there was another reason to hold back myself, I’d pluck flowers i come across and hand em over as we reach home and she’d slap my palm saying don’t do thaat, Yuppp she’d smrik again. ..
A few days back, i decided to hang a pot with some random flowering plant right in front of the house, jus so she’d get a view of it whenever she steps out and kept watering it every other day, we both used to wonder how the flower is gonna be, we’d argue abt the colour jus before bed.
It was a beautiful phase of 2-4 days, when one fine morning she stood by the door looking up, sipping her morning tea with half sleepy eyes I slowly walked towards her stood there leant on her shoulder turning my eyelids up, we finally saw the bloomed flower three tiny little ones, as beautiful as her eyes(though she got some eyes she can brag about)
We looked at each other, not a word just a gentle smile with our heads leaning on each other. ..
Flowers are so selfless, they’ll adapt to every occasion one intends to use them for, from dried petals in books to those who dried without hope on graves, either way they tell a valiant tale about the hands who held.
Many a times, we fail to understand the delicate nature of silence. I mean who on earth doesn’t wanna watch their girl caress her hair back and pin a flower to her head with those earring’s begging for a view, all of a sudden time seems to have slowed down as u sit there and watch it unfold, it’s overwhelming to the heart jus imagining it, isn’t it ?
Mhmm am I off topic again ? Maybe but meh who cares the thoughts about her anyways, let’s get back to the flowers. ..
She loved flowers, everytime we walked together I’d let her lead at times she’ll turn back flick her hair back and smirk at me saying walllkkk, hehe she’d be so cute when she does it I’d never utter a word jus a evil happy smile inside lol !! And there was another reason to hold back myself, I’d pluck flowers i come across and hand em over as we reach home and she’d slap my palm saying don’t do thaat, Yuppp she’d smrik again. ..
A few days back, i decided to hang a pot with some random flowering plant right in front of the house, jus so she’d get a view of it whenever she steps out and kept watering it every other day, we both used to wonder how the flower is gonna be, we’d argue abt the colour jus before bed.
It was a beautiful phase of 2-4 days, when one fine morning she stood by the door looking up, sipping her morning tea with half sleepy eyes I slowly walked towards her stood there leant on her shoulder turning my eyelids up, we finally saw the bloomed flower three tiny little ones, as beautiful as her eyes(though she got some eyes she can brag about)
We looked at each other, not a word just a gentle smile with our heads leaning on each other. ..
️ It still doesn’t feel off topic...if anything, it feels like the heart speaking in its own language...What you described is the kind of love that doesn’t demand attention..yet somehow holds all of it. The kind that lives in pauses, in shared silences, in tiny rituals no one else notices...Silence isn’t absence here..it’s understanding..It’s two souls resting without needing to explain themselves.
