It was a petal, from a blossom falling down. But I followed its fall, for it was so slow and flutter, it gave me enough time, seconds really, to reflect on how I felt about you.
Sometimes that’s all the time you need. I left the park, while other petals fell and then knocked on your door.
“You could have called or texted me,” he said.
But I didn’t want to do things that way. I wanted the old fashioned way of confronting someone, with one’s love.
So I did. And it worked.
We lived happily ever after.