"Daises are devalorized to a criminal extent," I inform the blossom between my fingers. "It's 'roses this' and 'roses that', but how often does one consider a daisy to demonstrate his or her affection? Not often at all," The flower falls. "I thought you might like these," I say, addressing the polished granite embedded in the ground."Thought the yellow might 'liven up the place'" Whatever it has to say, the stone suppresses it. "Oh come on, you can't tell me that wasn't clever. It was hilarious," Silence. "Admit it, I'm funny,"

I smooth the blades of wind-whipped grass. "I guess my sense of humor isn't like it used to be. Granted, most people these days are too afraid to hurt my feelings to tell me. Those idiots. Don't they know I'll never make it as a comedian if I don't get some honest, constructive criticism?"

I'm detaching the petals, one by one. "You love me, you love me not. You love me, you love me not. You love me, you- LOVE ME NOT? So after all these years the truth comes out. It's a good thing you're not here, otherwise you'd be in huge trouble, mister. We'd have words,"

I notice the familiar tightness building in my throat, brick after brick of swelling that warns me of what's to come. Tears bubble and burst on my cheek, but I let them come. It's okay to cry here. The residents understand. "I have a confession to make. It hurts less, a little less everyday. It scares me, to not feel the pain. What if one day I'm okay and you're still here, turning into dust and being unloved?"

I skim my fingers across the indents in the rock, pausing on the loops of letters that came to mean so much. "You'll never be unloved," I say. Kissing the corner of it, I get up. "I'll be back later, don't go anywhere," I laugh. It's weak, but it still pops from my lips. "Maybe I'll bring carnations next time,"