🌸 an apology, grown like a garden 🌸
Inda Klica
Your best friend owes you an apology.
The full version — with flowers, a poem, a little moonlight, and zero excuses.
Before I was ever the guy with the roses, I was the guy trying to make you laugh.
I hurt you, and no joke is big enough to hide behind — so this is me, not hiding: out loud, in bloom, and all for you.
Scroll slow. Take your time. Fair warning, though: there's one button near the end that absolutely refuses to cooperate.
Before the Rose
Before the rose, there was the seed:a friend who laughed at all my worst,who spoke my nonsense fluently —you were my favorite person first.
I knew your weather, sun and squall,the quiet kinds of hurt you keep —I hurt you. There. No velvet phrasing:I shook the petals in their sleep.
There's midnight in me, I admit —some ink, some thorn, some stubborn dark.But every shadow in my cheststill turns toward you, its favorite spark.
They warn you not to love a thief —but you're the one who steals my gloom,who picks the lock on every griefand laughs the ghosts out of the room.
Take all the seasons that you need;I'll wait the way the moonlight will —not knocking, never at the glass,just silver, certain, patient, still.
So, Inda — I won't ask the nightto hand back petals to the stem.Just leave me one more moon to earn,and I will earn the rest of them.
A letter, sealed with a rose
My dearest Inda,
I started this letter more times than I'll admit. Every version tried to explain, and every explanation sounded like an excuse wearing a nicer shirt. So I deleted them all. What's left is the plain truth, from the person who was your best friend before he was anything else: I hurt you, and I am sorry.
So here it is, with nothing dressed up: I was wrong. Not 'wrong, but—'. Not 'wrong, if you look at it from my side.' Just wrong. I'm not going to reach for excuses — you'd see through every single one anyway. You always do. It's one of the ten thousand things I love about you.
Here's what makes it heavier: I know you. I know the difference between your polite smile and your real one. I know which silences mean you're thinking and which ones mean you're hurt. Knowing you that well is the privilege of my life, and it came with a responsibility I dropped. That's on me. All of it. And while you decide what to do with that, I need you to know one thing without a doubt: you are loved. Fiercely, patiently, stubbornly.
Because the world is simply better lit when you're laughing in it — and I dimmed that light. You're the first person I want to laugh with, the last one I want to say goodnight to, and the only one who can make doing absolutely nothing feel like the best plan I've ever had. Your smile going quiet — even for a day, even because of me, especially because of me — is a price I never want to pay again.
I'm not asking you to pretend it didn't happen. I'm asking you to let me show you who I am after a mistake — because that's the truest version of anyone. So here I am, standing at your door with a page full of flowers instead of a boombox. Take whatever time you need; I'll wait, as long as it takes. And whenever you're ready, your best friend will be right here.
Patient as moonlight, stubborn as a rose —
your favorite kind of trouble
Six of a thousand reasons
Some things I love, some things I vow — all of them yours.
Your Laugh
It rearranges a whole room — I swear I've seen furniture look happier. I'd tell a thousand terrible jokes just to hear it once, and you know I have the material.
Partner in Crime
Every good story I have starts with 'so, Inda and I…'. Nobody on this planet makes an ordinary day feel like a heist the way you do.
You See Through Me
You call my nonsense before I've finished the sentence. Being that known is terrifying — and the best thing that ever happened to me.
Promise: Ears First
When something I do hurts you, my first move will be to hear it, not to explain it. Less defending, more you. I'd rather be good to you than get good at apologizing.
The Moonlight Clause
New rule: every full moon, you're entitled to remind me of the time I was an idiot — and I'm contractually obligated to show up with dessert.
Best Friend First
Whatever else we are — the flowers, the moonlight, all of it — underneath, I'm your best friend. Even in an argument with me, half of me defects to your side. And best friends fix what they break.
In Ink and Moonlight
Even my shadows are on your side.
Anyone can love you in the sunlight. This is the other vow — the one that holds at 3 a.m., in burgundy and shadow.
Midnight and I had a long talk. We agreed on exactly one thing: you deserved better from me.
You are not the light at the end of my dark. You are the hand I want to hold all the way through it.
A thorn is how a rose remembers being hurt. My vow, by this moon: I will never hand you another.