365 roses - one black, one red, one pink, one blue. One withered, one ripped, one lost, one without thorns, and one without petals.
She kept every single rose from the very beginning. That beautiful, winter day, that marked the beginning of something new, something entirely different. Some soft, short kisses from mouths that tasted like coffee - cappuccinos and lattes. Some long, everlasting glances of brown, chocolate eyes that could melt any beating heart (she knew that because she saw how some girls envied her for meeting him in a lonely coffee house). Some cold, shivering hands because of the January wind. That was the white rose - the petals of purity, innocence, and the birth of new love.
With every month that passed, some roses were red with the passion that burned in their veins, the wine that was gulped and downed at evening dates.
And then, there were blue roses that bloomed in the never-forgotten quarantine; the roses that planted seeds in the sadness within. Those were the kind of flowers that remained still, never withered because of the strength of the sorrow found in two lonely hearts.
Better days came, despite everything, and yellow roses came out of nowhere. The sun was up, the wine tasted better, the food was more exquisite. Those days were hot and burned the skin of two lovers unknown by the world. Those endless days and sleepless nights were filled with adventures, long, deep kisses, and love that exploded from every single atom of theirs, and formed another universe only they knew.
And as the sun was starting to fade, the leaves turned red and orange and auburn, fall made its way in the city. The lovers were unstoppable - they held hands, kissed in front of everyone to see, fought each other for a better love, and trusted without hesitation. There were orange roses, green roses, purple roses. There were so many at once.
And time flew and their love grew still. And here the girl is now - holding up and writing in a cheap notebook, taking a well-deserved break from her never-ending studies just to daydream about her lover - her dream boy, the one who had managed to steal her heart exactly one year ago, the one who had been so shy to kiss her at first, but then gave in and loved her deeply, as he should; the one who'd always stood by her side, and gave her all his support; the one who once was the wish for the girl who blew out the candles on her birthday cake.
And as she sits in her quiet house, she cannot help but wonder if she had given her love just as much in return. She knew she didn't trust people easily; she knew she could sometimes be stone cold. Yet still, she thinks about it, and as she does, all her heart is screaming is one sincere and truthful I love you.
17.01.2021