I did this for her.

A complimentary collection of tulips and daffodils. They were a vibrant orange and purple, a rather unorthodox assortment, but beautiful. I wrapped them neatly in the old twine I discovered in my desk drawer. Between the hours of sunset and midnight we met on the course, the grass rolled out cleanly underneath us I gifted the bouquet. I still remember her sage eyes capturing mine that night, and how the starlight seemed to reflect off them.

I did this for her.

I was never much of a poet preceding her, until her intervention inspired me, where my internal thoughts seemed to flow onto the page. I wrote mounds of pieces for her, only a few making their way to her vision as I am flawed and imperfect. But she is not.

I did this for her.

I placed my new jacket in the seat on my right, patiently awaiting her arrival as I observed the crowd of people stepping around me, finding their positions in the audience. The lights dimmed and the music commenced. Perhaps she did not know what I did.

I did this for her.

I curated a container of muffins, each carefully handcrafted with fat blueberries bursting with flavor as you took a bite from it. I woke up early so as to keep them fresh and ripe so she will not be bothered by day-old breakfast. My phone stayed silent all day. It is possible she lost it between the couch cushions.

I did this for her.

Sending frantic messages to her. I am afraid her mind has taken over again. I cried, I pleaded for a response. I yearned for some sign. Maybe she wants nothing to do with me.

I did this for her.

I stayed up all of the darkness the earth offered. I attempted reading novels on my shelf, but all the characters were played by you.

I did this for her.

I saw him. I saw him standing there, his hands behind his back, his snobbish shoe impatiently tapping the ground. I saw him kiss you, I saw him lead you to his car. I saw him drive away down the street, while I stood alone.

I did this for her.

He resided in a nestled apartment on the west side of town. I bet he often takes you there, where you laugh at low-quality movies, as we once did.

I did this for her.

I cleaned up. I put the groceries away that he carried, the laundry spewed out everywhere, and bleached the floor well. I bet you don’t appreciate stained floors.