Find Me

Find Me

Roses.

They come in different colors, and those colors come with meanings. But whatever those are, still, they're what you give to someone special. Sometimes you give a single, long stemmed rose, sometimes you give a bouquet. A dozen roses, usually. Sometimes you give three, for those three words you choose to say with flora.

After all, Sherlock Holmes, your favorite character, did say, “Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers, our desires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its color are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers.” And wouldn't it be nice to have them everyday? Yes, you thought so. That's why you have your rose garden.

You just woke up one day and realized you needed beauty in your life, in your home. Outside your home, to be technical, where it can greet you and others who pass by on the sidewalk and just happen to be looking at the houses. Outside of your big, spacious, lonely home, in the front yard, just leaning against the front wall of the house, on both sides of the double doors. Then you thought back to what you gave to your old girlfriends, or the girls you tried to woo. You used roses.

While on the soft ground, in your old clothes, the clothes that you can get dirty, digging holes and putting the roses in, your mind wandered. You haven't given roses for quite a long time now. You haven't had anyone you wanted to impress.

At first, you thought you were planting the garden for yourself, but suddenly, as if you were almost keeping the thought closed in a locked chest, it sprang out. A face. The face of a woman. You were really doing this for her.

You knew she was married, you saw her diamond ring. It was big too. That was why you tried not to think of her. You didn't want to be a home wrecker, but when you thought about her for more than five minutes, you almost didn't care. Home wrecker's not so bad, as long as you got her. And you rationalized that she wasn't happy.

Sure, she had a husband and two kids, but every time you saw her (and each time she never saw you), she had this... unsatisfied look in her eyes. And somehow, you knew what she wanted. She wanted sunshine. The life she was presently living in had sunshine too, but it had rain as well. And it was too much rain for her. You could offer her that sunshine. She also wanted the moon. You could imagine her looking at it at night, and you could see clearly in your mind that that was what she was thinking of. It just fits. But her husband wasn't promising that to her. He couldn't sing either, unlike you could. Her husband was much too practical.

After you finished planting all the roses, watered them, and you changed to fresh clothes, you sit inside to think. No, to plan. You planned on rescuing her from the life she doesn't want. You planned on giving her everything she desired because you loved her and you knew she would love you too once you've met. You decided on what to do.

Her husband and kids left the house earlier than she had to, so you would wait outside. Right after she would give her family the obligatory kiss goodbye and they were out of sight, you would walk up to her door and knock. She would be unfamiliar with the knock, but at the same time, she would know that she had heard it before, in her heart somewhere. When she will open the door, you will sweep her off her feet and bring her to your life with the rose garden, and the sunshine, and the moon, and songs. A life where all she does is take, and all you do is give, but that's more than enough for you because you love her.

But first, you had to wait for your rose garden to grow and flourish before you can execute your plan, so that everything will be perfect. And so you wait, as I wait.

I wait for you to finally knock on my door and do everything you have planned. It's really all I can do, just wait and hope... hope...

I hope that you exist.

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The End
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This is an entry for xshallowxbayx's Oldie but Goodies songfic contest.

I feel like I made a lot of mistakes with the keeping the tense uniform. Lazy. xD
I'm not sure if the story has the effect I wanted, but I'm pretty proud of it because it's my first story in 2nd person POV!
Oh yeah, and honest feedback is greatly appreciated. I don't even care if it's purely opinion based feedback. I'll take anything.
What kind of person did you think the "You" was? What about the "I"?

You can check out my other stories, if you want.