[That's...so much better than the stupid bullshit meaning some crusty old fucker attributed to peonies and roses back a couple of centuries ago.]

You're not stupid.

[Why that's the place she feels she needs to start, she isn't sure, but she knows that it is. That's what's important, before anything else.]

And you're not nobody.

[There, again. The next step, the next paving stone in the garden path.]

You're the guy who's always bringing me food because you worry about me no matter how many times I lie and tell you I'm fine. You're the guy who danced with me at some podunk town's hoedown and gave me the chance to feel normal again. You're the guy who doesn't stop to think before jumping into harm's way for me. You're — Jerry is my soul, a part of my soul, and you're the only person I've ever let touch him. You're the guy I gave my name to, and you knew what that meant, and you just...you gave it back.

[She tugs on his wrists, trying to make him lower his hands enough so that she can see his face.]

You make me feel safe, and you make me feel special. You're the best person I know. ...And if you don't give me the flowers I think I'll die.