Jul 3
He was a wildflower, blooming wherever he pleased. Free, bright, and always moving with the wind. He laughed easily and loved discovering new things.
She was the barley, steady and strong. She stood firm, offering comfort and quiet promises. Her presence was like a calm, golden field.
They met, and he was drawn to her steady warmth. She was captivated by his wild joy. For a time, their worlds intertwined beautifully. He brought her excitement; she gave him peace.
But the wildflower felt the pull of roots. The idea of settling down, of being truly tied, felt too heavy for his free spirit. One day, suddenly, he just pulled away. No long goodbyes, just a quiet, impulsive step back.
She stayed rooted, her heart feeling the empty space he left. He kept moving, a faint echo of her calm presence sometimes reaching him. Their paths split, the wildflower always seeking new horizons, and the barley standing, patient and strong, on her own ground.
She was the barley, steady and strong. She stood firm, offering comfort and quiet promises. Her presence was like a calm, golden field.
They met, and he was drawn to her steady warmth. She was captivated by his wild joy. For a time, their worlds intertwined beautifully. He brought her excitement; she gave him peace.
But the wildflower felt the pull of roots. The idea of settling down, of being truly tied, felt too heavy for his free spirit. One day, suddenly, he just pulled away. No long goodbyes, just a quiet, impulsive step back.
She stayed rooted, her heart feeling the empty space he left. He kept moving, a faint echo of her calm presence sometimes reaching him. Their paths split, the wildflower always seeking new horizons, and the barley standing, patient and strong, on her own ground.
