Rose

So imma get a story in real quick about something that happened on Valentine's Day, while I am still in the silly mood: I met my old flame on Valentine's, and she gave me a rose.

It wasn't a romantic thing by any stretch. We had gone out a few times some years ago, the fuse did not ignite, she found someone as trad (Traditional Catholic) as she was and they got married. Meanwhile my pride got hurt and I got mad at the Trads for many years and went into another relationship saying "yeah suck it, Trads!" then that relationship fell apart and I have to work on myself and that means (gasp!) not being so mad at the Trads anymore.

Anyway this woman has a strange fixation on my sister, whom she had never met. Today I happened to pass by her stall and after a while she shot me a text saying, "yeah we got um some extra roses and don't know where to put them... maybe your sister can have one?"

And I said, inwardly, what the fuck am I supposed to do, go home and give my own biological sister a rose on Valentine's Day? Besides, Jamie's a florist, she has spent the whole week of overtime messing with rose bouquets; she will throw up if she kerplops home after Hell Week and sees yet another rose. You're a florist too, bro surely you would know that!

But I did not say all of that to her. Instead I said, "Yes"

I could be mean to her, I could doubt her motives; but it has been so long, and I have already ranted all my rants. I am tired. I do not question it anymore.

So I went back to the stall and my Old Flame handed me a rose (meant for my poor suffering sister) and madafakas NOW I HAVE A ROSE

I charged straight into a single's event wielding this stupid rose like gals and pals look at this ROSE I got on Valentine's Day and afterwards I galloped up and down Middle Road holding this ROSE. On Valentine's Day!

On this special day of Valentine's Day, some people are in love

Some people are in love with the idea of love

But me, I just like to have a rose

It's festive!

In the end I did bring it home and put my one rose into a nice vase and told my sister that this rose is meant for her. Jamie, who had brought home two vase-fuls of yellow and orange roses, was as confused as I am, but did not turn it down. Now, it graces the top of the dining room counter. The outcome is the same whether the rose was meant for her or for me. End of story.