For my 35th birthday my ex-wife came up with a very beautiful gift for me. Seeing as we were still together at the time she custom made me an incredible flower arrangement. Beautiful flowers (I could tell you what kind but I'm a straight male. We have no clue.) with bamboo, a gorgeous pot, several helium filled balloons, a card, and an engraved rock. On the rock it said: "You are my love". I was the envy of the office. People would gather at my cube to fawn over my wondrous gift. The balloons would reach up and scrape the ceiling to let the world know that Alessandro indeed had been given some love. (In your face! Who da man? I'm da man.)

I decided to keep the arrangement as is on my cubicle shelf. I would take some of the flowers out and let them dry and keep the petals. Little did I know that the flowers were somehow mystically tied to my marriage. As things got worse between us the arrangement died a little more. Fast forward a few months to the end of my marriage. The arrangement had long been dead but I hadn't decided to move it. In my haste to grab some papers one day I accidentally knocked the pot off of it's shelf. Dried flowers went everywhere. Putrid green water spilled down all over my shirt. Months old pollen filled the air. Last but not least, something very hard hit my head. I looked up and the pot was still on the shelf, tipped over. While rubbing the newly forming bump on my head I looked down and saw the culprit staring right up at me.

"You are my love"

Nice one universe. Have to love it when god has a sense of irony.