I can’t stand bloody freesias. Had them in my wedding bouquet. They were white and pink and smelled like summer and happy ever after.
Only I ain’t gonna get neither by the looks.
I’m stuck here in perpetual winter, and the asshole I was stupid enough to marry has sashayed off back to his momma in sunny Florida.
Last week he sent me the divorce papers I been kind of expecting. I signed them and found myself smiling for the first time in months.
This morning my big bear of a neighbour brought me freesias. These ones smelled like hope.