This is dedicated to my best friend, @nimitaaa for encouraging me upon publishing this and telling me to not to let myself be unexpressive about my thoughts just because people wouldn't understand my line of writing.
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This story or any part of it cannot be copied, translated, or stolen by concept in any way. Stealing may result in charges of plagiarism. My writings are mine not yours. Thank you.
Thrones and Petals of a Rose[1]
Please understand.
Yesterday, when I locked the door of my bedroom and I isolated myself, crying my heart out for you. I remembered how your beautiful brown orbs had become relentless and cold when I was begging you to fight for me. I remembered how I tore myself apart to mend your broken pieces. That day, I told myself something.
Someday, you're going to wake up on a cold winter morning, the corner of your eyes moist with tears from last night and you'll realize that you miss me not talking to you anymore, you miss me trying to cheer you up, you miss me believing in you.
You're going to cry because that day, you won't have me to mend you. You're going to cry because you know I'm not crying anymore. You're going to cry because you wish I missed you at that very moment as much as you miss me. You're going to cry because I don't think about you anymore. You're going to cry because you wish I thought about you as much as you thought about me.
You're going to cry
That very day, you will see me, you will tell me you love me so much it hurts.
That day, I'll hold your cold hands between my warm ones, rubbing my small fingers on the broad skin of your hands.
I will look into those beautiful brown eyes that I once fell in love with and I will tell you, that I'm sorry that you didn't love me when I loved you but I don't love you anymore.
That day, you will run home crying and you'll think about the times I woke up with the corners of my eyes moist wishing you'd miss me like I missed you, wishing you thought about me like I thought about you.
You'll think about the time where there were tears in my eyes and I begged you to fight for me.
You'll think about the time where I tore myself to mend you.
You'll think about the time when I loved you more than you deserved it.
You'll think about the time when you let me go and you kept making me grieve about you.
You'll think about the time where I said you weren't a bad person. You'll wish you hadn't let me go. You'll wish you had fought for me. You wish I looked into your beautiful brown eyes and told you I still loved you. You'll think about me trying to hide my pale face from being revealed of its reddening composure with my black hair so you wouldn't see what you did to me.
You'll think about how I forgave you when you didn't even mean it.
You wish I forgave you now.
But it's so late. It's so late for you to love me back. You'll think about the time where you told me being with me is like a cage to you. You'll think about how I don't care about that anymore. You'll think about how you wished I did. You'll think about how your texts don't make my day because I don't respond to them.
You'll think about how much you needed to look into my sparkly black orbs and realize how much you loved me.
You'll think about how much I loved you.
You'll think about the time I wrote this to you.
Because when you look into my beautiful black eyes, you see something familiar, you see that relentless and cold look in me.
You have never seen me like this.
Like you.
You made me this.
My tears. My pleading. My reddened cheeks. My black hair. You'll think about us.
Lastly,
You'll think about me.
This is my letter to you before I become something more to you.
Please understand.
Yours always.
Rose.
