The flowers died the night I got them. What a sign! Dry and neglected, you gave me blue hydrangeas. No doubt they were beautiful at first. But they must've died when it took you more than an hour to make a 35 minute drive. Came up short. And I wish for this not. I wanted to really like you. But, I'm learning I have preferences. I don't like petite men. Apparently, I need a beefy dude who's at least a few inches taller than me. I tried to find a way to get the sparks to fly. But instinctively I knew not to be too much: too friendly, touchy, sitting too close to you. Not only could I not do it because I seem to be quite turned off by small men, but also it wouldn't have been polite to lead you on knowing how I feel. Thanks for the dead flowers though.
Little did I know
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