The Night the Flowers Died
June 14, 2026
One thing nobody prepares you for as a woman is how often men manage to shock themselves.
Not you.
Themselves!
Men treat consequences the way the rich treat taxes. They know they exist. They just believe this doesn’t apply to them. It’s one of those things that happens to other people…
Oh, how calmly a man slides through destruction, only to throw tantrums and collapse into self-pity worthy of a Shakespearean tragedy.
Only a man would set a fire, dance around the flames, and then look genuinely shocked when the smoke reaches his own lungs.
It’s fascinating.
The audacity alone could leave a woman speechless…
So, I was seeing this Israeli guy — 32. After he asked me out a few times, I finally went out with him. He had charm, so I thought, why not have some fun. I wasn’t crushing on him or anything. Not that crazy-in-love kind of attraction, but I liked him. There was chemistry.
We met at a restaurant in my neighborhood. We went for drinks, got desserts, talked… It was fun — everything flowed.
The boy looked genuinely smitten — couldn’t take his eyes off me — saying I looked even better in person.
I know that’s right!
I mean, I know I looked fine, and I killed it with the dress, hair, sunglasses, shoes that day — there wasn’t a man or a woman in there that wasn’t staring at me, and I am not exaggerating.
I am always a scene. That comes effortlessly to me…
Then, out of nowhere, he looked across the restaurant and went:
“Did you see that girl over there in black?”
“No? What girl?”
Apparently, she’d just followed him to the bathroom and tried opening his door.
He explains this dramatically, saying:
“Thank God I locked the door.”
I ask: “So… you have history?”
“Yeah. We used to go out. I liked her, but then I saw photos of her that disgusted me, and I blocked her.”
Aaand… I’m thinking…
We are in MY country — where this guy had been living for all of four months — and somehow we’re already stumbling across HIS exes instead of mine.
Red flag.
Red flag.
Red flag.
I thought: Interesting. I should probably investigate this further!
We left after that, and went to his house so he could change before a walk around the city. While I was waiting in the car, he suddenly came back with flowers — a huge bouquet matching my lilac dress and sunglasses.
And then you probably already know what followed…
“I don’t usually do this, I only buy flowers for my mother and sometimes girlfriends, but I really liked you.”
These flowers, though… They say flowers given with love and pure intentions last longer.
And I’m telling you, those flowers scented my entire apartment floor. You could smell them from the elevator. My whole apartment felt like a flower shop.
But only for a week.
And the night they died… it was our 9/11.
We were at my flat, and we had just had dinner. While we were sitting there quietly, he suddenly started talking with this strange smirk on his face — almost creepy.
“You know, I have a friend with a grooming salon. I can show it to you for your dogs.”
Now, I wasn’t interested. My dogs don’t have enough fur for haircuts! But I stayed polite.
I sat next to him, he opened Instagram, and started showing me videos of this girl and the dogs getting washed and trimmed.
And we kept watching… and watching …
I started getting genuinely confused. Why are we still watching this?
Then suddenly there was a video.
“Have you seen this ad?” he asked.
“No?”
“Oh really? I see it on YouTube all the time.”
Why is he still talking about this girl? Why are we still looking at her?
I was in shock. And ready to go full Cell Block Tango on him!
But I told myself: You will NOT lose control.
And I did. I stayed calm.
Smiled.
Kept the poker face on.
Because I wanted to see how far he’d go.
You see, I like to give people freedom, so they could be exactly who they are… The performances I’ve lived through… oh, you have no idea…
It’s the kind of spectacle you don’t want to miss!
Well, eventually the dog videos were over.
So now we’re scrolling through photos of her.
More scrolling.
More talking.
And finally, almost like he suddenly snapped back into reality, he dropped the phone like it burned his hand.
I was sitting there on MY couch thinking:
What the hell did just happen?
All I knew was I felt gorgeous that day — and now I felt invisible.
Not because I thought this girl was prettier or better in any way.
But because I was sitting right there while his attention was somewhere else entirely.
Was it some toxic attempt to make me show passion?
Was it just where his attention naturally went?
I didn’t know. And I didn’t care.
Something in me completely shut off after that.
I was still nice to him. But my body just went cold. I could no longer look at him the same way.
Even be around him.
And the CRAZIEST part?
He acted like absolutely nothing happened.
That night, around 3am, I finally got up because the more I thought about the situation, the more I felt like Catherine Zeta-Jones in Chicago.
I went to the living room, got my medicine — music, of course.
I drowned the silence in Ain’t No Love — both Whitesnake’s and Jay-Z’s remake — lit a cigarette, and sat there on the couch at 5 a.m., alone, watching the sunrise paint the sky in shades of pink and orange.
Meanwhile, this man was pretending to sleep unbothered in my bed like all was roses and sunshine.
Really, b***h?
He didn’t even come to check up on me or ask what was wrong.
Did he really think I was the kind of woman who would laugh it off and move on?
The morning I already had aaaaall the answers.
I pretended to be asleep, just like him, until he left because I genuinely didn’t even want to look at him anymore. I just wanted him gone.
Later that day, when I ignored his messages, he suddenly acted shocked.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why are you acting like this?”
Me being me, I painted a very quick picture for him of exactly what was up.
And instead of apologizing, this grown-ass man started calling ME childish. Saying I was “acting like a ten-year-old.”
No apology.
No accountability.
Total dismissal of the entire situation.
The hilarious part — he still managed to act like the victim.
— “No one has ever hurt me that way before!”
I was thinking: Are you genuinely insane?
You do not sit on another woman’s couch, during a “romantic” evening together, and spend twenty minutes obsessively showing her another girl while she’s sitting right beside you.
But honestly, by then it didn’t even matter anymore.
The red flags had been there from the beginning.
The ex at the restaurant.
The random texts.
The weird little jealousy games.
The emotional immaturity.
The complete inability to take responsibility for his actions…
…the mask slipped.
See, words are easy. But actions and patterns, they never lie.
So I threw away those dead flowers and continued on with my life.
Because there’s nothing warmer, prettier, softer, cozier than a girl’s world.
Everybody wants a piece of it…
But it’s not for everybody!
Thank you for reliving this moment with me!
See you next Sunday at 4.
Love, Kiki