the graduation rose i got was yellow. and it was already opened up, meaning it will die soon. i complained about that a lot, but i really didn't care.
i didn't care if it died sooner. a dying rose was fine. that meant it would be out of its misery sooner. that meant i wouldn't have to watch it frantically try to absorb water to stay alive.
flowers are one of the few things i know that can stay alive even after they have already been killed. dead.
pain demands to be felt. if you don't believe me, see if you can ignore pain. you can't. it's like a razor cutting your skin and drawing blood. you can't forget about it. you always always feel it.
YOU ARE READING
Break me
ChickLitwhat do you do when you can't stand to look at that page anymore but you can't turn to a new one? color over it and make a new picture.
