I love flowers. I think for Christmas I am going to ask for a flower press. I got one once as a child. I also like bunches of flowers and flower arranging. The most embarrassing moment of my childhood was winning a flower arranging competition. I entered the competition at school simply because I wanted to arrange flowers. I didn't think anyone would notice I was the only boy in the school to enter a flower arranging competition. Unfortunately, for me, I won. I had to accept a prize infront of the whole school and because I was a boy, weirdly some people bypassed the early signs I was gay and assumed my mother had created the arrangement, and as a boy I was simply a cheater. Ironically, my dad had helped me with the flowers, although it was all really done by me. It was exciting and the flowers remained on a table as a centerpiece for a while. I wish there was a picture to show, as all the flowers were from our own back garden.
When I was about 21, I had a boyfriend called Matthew. We went to different universities so there were often romantic meetings that started at the train station, and on one occasion he greeted me with flowers, like a man would for a woman. Some might argue this is pathetic and reinforces that gays are flouncy and camp. But it didn't feel like that at all. They were really nice flowers, roses if I remember correctly. It must of been love.
I'm thinking about submitting my entry to the Born This Way blog, where gay men and women submit a little story about from when they were growing up with the theme of being gay, complete with a childhood photo. There are a lot of entries of little girls in work man helmets and little boys in mum's shoes. I think writing in my flower arranging story is a great idea, shame there isn't an actual photo of the flowers to accompany it. Anyway, here's the Statler Brothers:
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