If I have to ask for flowers, I no longer want them.
And it’s not really about the flowers. It never is. It’s about what they mean, what they stand for thoughtfulness, effort, love given freely. The moment I have to remind someone, the magic fades. The gesture changes shape. It stops feeling special, and instead, it becomes something transactional.
Because once I have to ask, it no longer comes from the heart. It doesn’t carry the same warmth. The flowers may still look beautiful in my hands, but they don’t feel the same. They feel heavy, almost empty, because now they were given out of obligation, not love. And what’s the point of a gesture if it feels forced?
That’s not the kind of love I want. I don’t want a love that needs to be reminded of the basics. I don’t want a love where affection has to be dragged out, piece by piece, like pulling teeth. I don’t want to beg to be noticed, to be cherished, to be thought of.
I want a love that just knows. A love that notices the little things. A love that listens quietly, remembers softly, and shows up without being asked to. A love that gives not because I demanded it, but because the thought crossed their heart and they couldn’t resist.
Because when love is real, it doesn’t need scripts. It doesn’t wait for reminders. It doesn’t appear only after being begged for. Real love is effortless in its giving, and that’s the only kind of love that feels whole.
So yes if I have to ask for flowers, I no longer want them. Not because I don’t appreciate them, but because the moment I have to beg, they lose the very meaning I longed for in the first place.
I want love that is felt before it is spoken. Love that arrives without being summoned. Love that simply knows.