smell the roses | j.j.k

02

October 10th

You finally revealed the roses were for a her. I already knew, but I still felt the sting of disappointment.

That insane part of me hoped the her was me. Then I remember all I know about you is your face.

And that's all you know about me. Just another face you pass by. So why do I still cling to the hope that you want more than another face to add to your forgotten list.

Why do I want nothing more than to be at the front of your mind and not the back. Why must you make me yearn this much.

But my real question is, why yellow roses?

I wish they weren't yellow. Because they're yellow, it makes that tiny string of hope pull tight again.

I wanted to tell you that yellow was a symbol of friendship rather than love, but maybe I was being selfish.

I let that absolutely bonkers part of my brain tell me that you were buying them for a friend and nothing else. The sane part of me has said that you merely don't know that the colour of roses general have meanings behind them.

My sane part also believed a male brain may not be able to comprehend it. Another part of my brain told me that you came across too pretty to be dumb and not know the meaning of roses.

I need to stop my infatuation with you. Your beauty is making my rationality wane.

I guess I had never really found a boy to describe as beautiful until now.

Maybe that's why. Yes, you are cute. I guess you can be described as hot, but both titles don't suite you. You just scream ethereal. Not even pretty would do you justice.

God, I'm going mad.