Roses Are Red

By , Beverly Hills, CA
Alex handed me a rose. A yellow rose. Friendship. That's all this relationship was. I should have known. He never kissed me, and never put his arm any lower than my shoulders. Never looked at me that way.

Brett handed me a rose. A deep pink rose. Thank you was all that meant. Thank you for what? For being with you for a year and always saying "I love you" although you never repeated it back to me?

Cal handed me a rose. A pink rose. He's happy with our relationship. But we're just friends. And I want to be way more than that. Can't he ever see that? Can't he tell that I want more than just a high-five or him tickling me to get out of bed?

Derek handed me a rose. A light pink rose. Sympathy. For what? Was he going to break up with me tonight?

Eddie handed me a rose. A white rose. Innocence and purity. Did that mean I was too innocent for him. Because I knew that he always went for bad girls. Was I not enough?

Freddy handed me a rose. An orange rose. Yes, orange was my favorite color. But not rose. It meant something like "Congrats". But for what? I've never accomplished anything that great in my life.

George handed me a rose. A black rose. He said it was because it seemed cool, how it had a couple little streaks of white in it. But this meant death, nothing near love.

Harry handed my sister a rose as all three of us went out to dinner. lavender rose. Love at first sight. With my sister, not me.

Ian handed me a rose. A purple rose. This meant eternal love. But I knew he only meant it as brother and sister love, because that's all I was to him.

Jack handed me a rose. A peach rose. He was shy. About what. We've known each other for 20 years. And we even kissed once, but he had made it so clear that we weren't anything but friends. So what was this for?

Kenny handed his me a rose. A blue rose. This meant rarity and mystery. He said that he knew no one else like me, and we would always be best friends.

Sitting on my desk is a bouquet of 11 roses. All every color of the rainbow, but not red. All I need is a red rose. But no one will give it to me.

After 11 boyfriends within 30 years, never once has a man ever loved me like I loved them.

And every time I leave them in the dust, I say one last thing to them.
"Roses are red."





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