“I do. So much.” He closes the space between us and rests his forehead against mine. “All in, remember?”
“All in,” I murmur.
He straightens and presses his lips to my forehead. “We’ll talk more later, but for now we should go eat. I don’t know how I can be so hungry after all we ate today, but my stomach started growling as soon as I smelled the pizza.”
I laugh, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “You go ahead and I’ll be out in a minute. I just want to put these daffodils in a vase. I love them, by the way. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“Always.” He kisses me again and sends me a cheeky little wave as he disappears out the door.
I pick up the flowers from the desk and sit in my chair. Kieran’s words replay in my mind:I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.I do want to see myself the way he sees me. More importantly, I want tobethat person again. The girl with the upbeat personality, who rarely had to fake a smile or pretend she was okay. I want to be that person again for Kieran, but also for myself. Maybe that subconscious insecurity from a few minutes ago came from worrying Kieran will get tired of me being down, crying at random, not always being fully present. Sometimes at night when I can’t sleep, I lie in bed and look at him and think he deserves better. He deserves someone who’s whole.
I look at the daffodils in my lap. My mom’s voice flits through my mind, saying daffodils remind her of me because they’re resilient. I used to think I was resilient; I thought I could survive anything with my head held high and my sunny disposition in place. But this last year has taken me to some dark places.
“They’re always among the first flowers to bloom in the spring, no matter how long or dark or cold the winter was. They stand tall and strong even after taking a beating from the rain. There’s something so hopeful about them.”
We had a long, cold winter. The first few months of this year felt endless, and there were times I wondered if the sun would ever shine again. Maybe what I’ve been dealing with isn’t situational depression after all, but Seasonal Affective Disorder instead. Maybe now that spring is in full swing, I’ll have a rebirth of my own and blossom like these daffodils.
God, I hope so.
