Sunflower Love

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I love you, Winifred.

I sat upright in bed and upon looking at the clock, it was yet another terrible night's sleep. Pushing myself out of bed, I made my way to the shower in hopes that it'll be the thing that saves my week. I pressed a hand to my forehead and pondered over why I could still feel the brush of his lips on my skin. I glared down at the drain as I envied the water that got to escape. 

And honestly, the shower probably would've made me feel better if only the events that occurred later that morning did not happen.

Once I opened up the shop, I felt something off and was absolutely sucker punched in the stomach as soon as Julianna stormed in with the biggest smile on her face.

I guess Liam told her.

She pulled me into a hug and went on about how excited she was for me to be doing this. Julianna never openly said she liked my work, but I know that she had bought one or two pieces here and there whenever we had galleries. I assumed she just did it purely out of the good nature of the galleries because other artists would buy pieces that weren't bought by the public in hopes no one would feel bad that all of their pieces weren't sold.

But there was Julianna, rambling about how much she admired my work and all the effort I put into making sure the art community here in town thrived as much as it had for the past couple of years. I just sat there and smiled, trying not to overthink her words and actions. 

My mother did always tell me that I could pick apart anything until I made it into a negative.

"If you need help picking out a dress, I can go with you. The color theme is blue and brown with a hint of yellow because I absolutely adore sunflowers and wanted some way to use them in my wedding." She continued as she showed me pictures of some of the stuff for the wedding as inspiration. "As long as you don't wear white and there's a hint of at least one of these colors, I'm sure it should be no issue." Julianna went on about dress styles that would compliment my figure and which ones wouldn't. Something about apples and pears which made absolutely no sense to me.

I just let her continue to talk as I stocked shelves, listening just in case someone came in. But, to my utter disappointment, no one came in for the whole duration of the morning. As it approached noon, which was when I temporarily closed the shop for the day to have lunch, I could feel my social battery almost completely depleted and all the work this morning's shower did was slowly slipping down the drain.

Julianna's gasp pulled me from my thoughts. Thinking she might've hurt herself somehow, I rushed over to where I left her sitting at my computer. Unfortunately, she only gasped because she stumbled upon a small boutique just outside of town that just opened and according to her, it "had the perfect dress" for me. So instead of eating lunch to refuel, I found myself in the dressing room of this boutique with a dress draped over my arm.

'Cause I always say yes.

"Here." I turned to see her slip heels under the door, "Wear these too! They'll help pull the whole thing together." Her voice faded as she made her way back to sit and wait for me to show her how the dress looked.

I leaned my head against the wall, pondering how I allowed myself to be in this position. I hated doing things like this.

The yellow dress was definitely not something I would ever pick out for myself. I would've chosen a muted, dull color. Like gray, pastel blue, maybe go with black or something. But Julianna said that me being in a yellow dress would compliment the wedding. Calling me her good luck sunflower. I groaned internally, peeling myself away from the wall as I began to undress and prepare myself to walk out in this. Not even glancing in the mirror, preparing myself to disappoint yet another person. I slowly pulled the strap of the heels over my foot as dread pooled in my stomach and weighed me down. I pulled in a big breath and then let it out swiftly, trying to give myself some false confidence to walk out of this dressing room.

As soon as I finally got the courage to open the door, I heard soft whispering from Julianna and couldn't help myself but to listen a little.

"It's Winnie. Like Winifred who apparently has never been on a date, Winifred." She had to be talking on the phone, because there was a pause as she waited for a response that I couldn't hear. "Yes! The one that was in Liam's photography group or whatever. Well, Liam was pretty insistent on her being invited to the wedding and I accepted. But I asked that if she comes then I want her to paint at my wedding." She sighed and there was a slight ruffle as she moved, "I mean, I have no qualms if she paints. She's an amazing artist, but if you've seen the photos of her that Liam took...you'd be a little worried too. I don't think there is much to be worried about considering the girl is 24 and hasn't even kissed anyone. But I can't help worrying over Liam's intentions of inviting her." 

Another pause. Another sigh.

"She's like a baby deer at times. Sweet, but just so...I don't know. But I'm going to be nice and help her pick a dress. Could you imagine her picking out her own dress? She wouldn't know how to pick the perfect dress, ya know? Winnie needs my help. Maybe I should try and get her a date too..." She trailed.

The confidence that I had strung together, melted away and joined the dread that now hardened into a rock that caused my whole mood to sink with it. Julianna laughed and muttered something about how she won't let anyone ruin her wedding, even the artist her husband-to-be forced her to hire. The call ended shortly after that with a rush of goodbyes and promises to have lunch on Friday.

"Winnie?" Julianna called from where she sat, "Do you need help figuring out the dress? It may need some adjusting, but I'm sure we can work wi-" I opened the door which cut through her backhanded suggestion. Her eyes widened slightly and a soft smile spread across her face. She jumped up and clasped her hands together, a dreamy sigh slipped out as she rushed to my side. I was about to tell her to not touch me, but she spun me to see my reflection causing the words to get stuck in my throat. "I knew it would look wonderful on you!" She squealed as she ran a hand through my hair, "Maybe curls would be nice, or perhaps a braid..." She mumbled on and on as we both stood in front of the mirror. She went off on her tangent of hair, jewelry, and different clutches to go with the dress. While I thought back on her words.

She's right. If I had chosen my own dress, I would've been an embarrassment.

And with that realization, I swallowed my pride as I went along with her suggestions. At the end of the day, I know deep down that I wouldn't have even tried on this dress. I don't do things that would allow for doubt to even be a part of the equation. And here I was being pissed at someone who could see right through me. Julianna knew. Julianna saw me and even if her words hurt, they were true. And if it meant being able to see myself as beautiful more often, then I'd allow her to push me out of this bubble I've always been cursed with.

Even if it meant that I would have to sacrifice some of myself to get there.

--❁--

enjoy.

xoxo,
happiness