Found within the pages of Webster’s dictionary, the still bright purple Statice is light and fragile like the girl who pressed them. It is still stapled with a “Vote for Me” message on violet construction paper. James had brought a large batch to school that morning, showing them off to everyone at the bus stop. He’d saved one just for her, and she, in turn, had kept it for almost forty years. Hold it to your heart and feel the butterflies flit and fly again. Remember how fickle young love is and how he’d asked this girl to go to the movies but made sure her best friend came along. Feel the dried, brittle flakes of flowers crumble like a girl’s heart as he sits beside her friend and away from the girl. Feel the thorny stem prick at your fingers and feel the pain of that moment echo through her every relationship. Note how this statice flower has kept this memory in stasis for so long. Wonder why the flower is just as good dead as it is alive, and hope that hearts are the same.