Every Rose Has It's Thorns

I put my head in my hands, I can’t believe he forgot. It’s been almost three years and he always manages to disappoint me on the exact same day every year. A stray tear runs down my cheek, but I hold back the wave of them that are threatening to fall. It’s not worth it, he’s not worth it. And yet…he’s worth everything. I would do anything for him, and I know he would do anything for me. But sometimes I just, I just can’t believe that. Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing here. In New Hope, Pennsylvania on the side of a mountain; sitting at an old wooden kitchen table. He was supposed to be home hours ago, and I’ve been sitting in the same spot since he called.

I set up an anniversary dinner, with candles and our favorite foods. But the candles have burned down and the food is cold. I stare at the table cloth, I had it dry cleaned just for the occasion yesterday. There’s a small hole in it, but for some reason it’s bothering me. I start picking at the hole, but it manages to get bigger. I bite my lower lip and manage to make the hole twice as big as it was.

“FUCK!”

I rip the table cloth off of the table, sending food flying and the candle stick holders’ crash to the floor. Tears start pouring down my cheeks and I can’t hold them in anymore. He’s such a jerk! I don’t know why I even bother with him anymore! He’s never home, he never calls, and I feel like I’m in a relationship with myself!! I sink to my knees and hold my head in my hands.

“I fucking hate him.”

My voice is shaky, and is muffled by my sobs. I wipe away tears and look at the destroyed kitchen, the food I made is everywhere, and I know he’ll have something to say when he gets home.

“Who do you hate?” Someone asks softly.

My eyes dart to the doorway and see him standing there, one hand behind his back. His beautiful brown eyes are full of guilt. His face has apology written all over it and I know he has something to say, I can just tell. I know him like the back of my hand; he’s my best friend, my lover, and the love of my life.

“I’m sorry I’m late. The flight from California was delayed and then I stopped to get you this.”
He pulls his hand from behind his back, and presents me with a perfect white rose. I’m speechless… In the years I’ve known him he’s never gotten me flowers…
“Be careful, you got to remember…every rose has it’s thorns.” He says with a small smile.