Whenever I see sunflowers,
I think of Amy and Vincent. I think of how he disliked them, said they were complex.
I remember how he loved her, even after only just learning her name.
I remember that she couldn't stand the reminder of his suicide, while he was just a few feet away.
I remember how he told her he loved her after she disobeyed the Doctor.
I remember all the flirtacious smiles they gave each other.
I remember how excited she was to be showing him his own art exhibit.
I remember the look on his face when the museum guide spoke of how amazing he was, calling him the greatest painter in the world, while he was not 10 feet away.
I remember how she was so happy after bringing him back, thinking that they'd made a difference,
changed his mind, made him realize that he deserved a whole world of hope.
And I try not to remember how devastated she was, going back to his exhibit, to see that nothing changed.
But I do remember. And I remember the sunflowers. For Amy, Vincent.
And I will always remember the sunflowers.