And this is what he said ...
write from the point of view of a wedding bouquet
Specifically, I am writing as if the bouquet could talk to Silverdrop, my wife and soulmate.
There I was, an inexpensive bouquet of pink tulips, sitting with many others in a Tescos superstore that morning. There were so many things I didn't know.
I didn't know that the man who was going to become your husband later that day had decided on the spur of the moment to rush out and buy you a bouquet because, although your wedding was a simple and inexpensive civil ceremony, he wanted you to have flowers.
I didn't know that I would be the bouquet he chose, because he had always loved tulips and my particular shade of pink reminded him of your nipples and those soft velvety lips between your legs that he so loves to explore with hands, mouth, tongue and cock.
I didn't know that I would see tears in his eyes during the ceremony as you read your personal statement, nor that he had told you some weeks before that he would be so emotional that he would barely be able to speak the formal words required and that he felt incapable of making an additional personal statement.
I didn't know that you didn't mind this, because he tells you all the time by his words and deeds how he feels about you.
I didn't know that I would sit in a vase on your dressing table that night and watch you fall asleep in each other's arms, so exhausted from the emotions of the day that you couldn't make love.
But I did know that, long after I was gone, and you became increasingly bed bound, that he would often bring pink tulips home, to remind you of that day, and what you still mean to each other.
Previous posts from So I asked SilverHubby here.