Roses Are Red

There's nothing much to do today.

Actually, there's nothing to do today at all. I have reached the point of boredom in life. This realization doesn't happen all the time. I am a happy person. I go to places a lot of time and make people happy. I have no troubles in life. I don't hate, instead, I make them feel comfortable. I make them feel at home with me. The last time I checked, I am a perfectly amazing person.

Except today.

I feel like being holed up in a place where I don't even want to stay. Well, I like my room and all, but sometimes, it just becomes extremely boring like every bit of happiness is sucked out of me. And that's not good for me at all because as I said, I am a happy person. I'd die sans happiness.

I sit here on my bed in the middle of the extremely messy room with a singing Lasse Lindh laptop on my lap. This is not my usual day. This is probably the weekend. Or probably one of the boring lonesome days. I hate this kind of day.

I checked my phone and no one seems to bother texting.

I hate this.

So I texted three friends.

First person:

Me: Where are you? Join me eat brunch at my fave place.

Adam: Just got home from eating breakfast tho.

Me: Okay.

Second person:

Me: What's up?

Landon: I'm preppin'. Going out with Jeffrey in a bit.

Me: Okay. Have fun!

Third person:

Me: Hey, what are you up to?

(After 30 minutes...)

Pete: Hey, just woke up. What are you doing?

Me: Nothing much. Why don't you join me eat brunch?

Pete: Nah, I'm still so sleepy. I'm going back to sleep.

Me: Kbye.

Okay. Fine.

Why do I feel like I'm losing a significant amount of friends, than actually spending time with them? Oh well. Now, it's time to go to my boyfriend's place. Oh, wait I have a boyfriend? Now that's a surprise.

I get up, change, pick up my backpack, and walk a few blocks away from my place. His place is something a lot more like home than mine.

So I start walking and feel the morning air. It feels like December all over again. The cold air at roughly 11 AM reminds me of the most awaited season of all time – Christmas.

I reach his apartment complex and go straight to his door. I haven't even sweetened one bit. My hand is snaking for the keys inside my bag, and I immediately unlock the big wooden door.

I open the door and find a clean, tidy room.

The place is simply adorable. It's some place I can't dare dismantle, like a hotel room perfectly made up.

The dark white couch is pretty clean and the dark blue glassed center table doesn't have anything on top but a small round white vase full of colorful marbles. The dark white walls are full of paintings and pictures hang loose.

I close my eyes, inhale, and smell citrus in the air. This always surprises me. While I am not consistent about anything, he is not consistent with only one thing – the smell of his flat. It's always something different - something nice and different.

So I walk further to the small kitchen and find everything in place. Well, it's expected since he doesn't cook. I always do the cooking, coz, as I said earlier, I like to mess things up. And cooking is messy. I'm a disorganized walking piece of shit but the good kind of shit that can hang with anyone.

I glide through his room and find it empty. I also expected this. He's a busy person, but I hoped he is here, though.

So I go back to the living room and sit on the couch, thinking where he could possibly be. He's the kind who tells me everything he does because he wants me to do the same. An eye for an eye, they say.

There are so many things in the world that we want, so many things we hope for. So many things yet there are just a few things in life that we are entitled to get.

Every day I live my life wanting something to happen, wanting for us to work out, but I realize that no matter how I want things to be, what I want will not happen in an instant.

Why am I here, I think to myself. Why am I still clinging on the thought of a happy ever after? After all, I am taught that this is reality – what I want things to be wont happen the way I want it to be – because reality says you can never be together. Not in your lifetime. Not when you are in a sophisticated situation.

There are times when I ask him when we will ever move in together, then he just gives me a sorry look and a one-day-it-will-come answer. His parents don't know. And between his parents and his richness, and me, the 16th love of his life, I bet he would choose the former.

And I wouldn't even let him decide. I'd walk away voluntarily. There's no need to fight a battle already lost.

This is a sad story.

This is me wanting something I can never have because his kind of society mandates a completely different thing. While my kind of people has been happily living with their partners for a long time, his kind is a closeted and conceited kind.

I become tired and hungry.

I stand up, leave the keys on the table, and walk away.

I stop over the nearest silogan for my favorite egg and pork adobo, and go straight home.

I arrive back at my place and climb the steep stairs of the building.

I notice petals of roses on the stairs and find it weird. Those petals also make the stairs slippery. It got me thinking: why would some people waste a pretty damn good flower to kill me?

When I reach the floor where I reside, I find him standing on my door bringing the rest of the roses.

My heart sinks, and I am about to cry.

I then realize the things I was thinking about were totally absurd. If you love someone you should understand the situation. You should level your partner and trust that everything is going to be just as planned.

I love him and I trust him. I trust that he loves me, too.

And that simple gesture reminds me that love is worth everything you have waited for. Love is a good thing out of the bad. It's the most wonderful thing that can happen to anyone.

You can have a million friends for all I care, but do you have that someone who loves you for who you are? Do you have that someone who you go home to? Or work for? Or plan dinner with?

Do you have someone who is ready to give you everything he has for you?

Love is like that and more.

Love is life.