A Rose in the Sun.

Pt.5: The Day We Did Not Talk

喧嘩

I remembered Rose's words from that evening. 

"Friends aren't supposed to fight. Anyone who says that it's normal for friends to fight has a big ego, because when friends fight, it's basically a clash of their egos."

I know if I listened to Rose's advice and words more often, I would be a whole lot happier. Sometimes she would say things that made more sense than anything my parents have taught me or anything that I had ever learned in school. The only issue was that sometimes the things Rose said to me went in one ear and right out the other. This piece of advice was one of them.

The weather was blue without any white, neither in the skies nor in the streets. On days like this, Rose and I would visit downtown, and I would take Polaroid pictures of her while she sang and danced around the light filled streets. Except, the night before, Rose and I got into a fight. I had promised to go to her church to see her perform a song she wrote, but I didn't go because the streets were piled with snow, and my mom never let me take the freeway. When I had called her after the usual time she came home from church, the two of us let our egos drive our attitudes, and instead of a peaceful apology, I came at her with words harsher than the frostbite of blizzards. We ignored each other for the rest of the night, and until now, the evening of the Thursday morning. 

I pretended I was okay so that Rose wouldn't win, but in the end, I felt alone. I had left Rose's garden, and solitude and loneliness were there to welcome me back to the deep crevice of the dark abyss that is called loneliness. I paced around the house looking for things to do, activities to ease my boredom, but the only thing able to fill that gap again was Rose and the fun the two of us had whenever we lived in the moment. They say that you never know what you have until you've lost it, and while I used to laugh at that statement, I can now safely agree with it. I missed Rose.

"Stop doing this," I whispered to myself, trying to swallow my pride to go to Rose's house and apologize to her. "That's it, I can't do this anymore."

I ran downstairs quickly and ran straight to the door. As I opened it, Rose was there, her hand ready to reach for the pine tree where my family hid the spare key. I showed her that a few weeks ago and she sometimes used it to surprise me. 

The two of us stared at each other with regret, remorse, and relief since we both knew we wanted to talk again. A blue tear dripped from Rose's eye.

"Blue, I miss you a-a-and I'm so sorry we fought," she cried.

Instead of replying, I reached for her and pulled her close to me with her sobbing eyes leaving damp spots on my shoulder. I returned to Rose's gardens, having finally felt the prickles of Rose's thorns.