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the rose
this is just a little short story i wrote. I got the idea from somewhere i forget, but i kind of addapted it to a more modern version... i hope ya'll like it
I¡¯m no extraordinary guy. I¡¯ve lived in the same house all my life, the short 17 years of my existence never had much excitement. I was never great with the ladies. I have had a few girls, you could call it a relationship, but it was never anything that I truly felt. Honestly I¡¯m still a virgin, but I feel its something to be cherished, not thrown around and given away at the first opportunity I see. It¡¯s been tough, never truly feeling the love that I longed for. But, I guess this is a story of when I first truly felt the love that I had madly searched for. I guess you can call me naive and young, I still believe I am, but I don¡¯t know what else to call what I felt the day I met her for the first time.
Her name was Alise. I had been talking with her for quite a long time. We met each other through an online forum, yes I know its pretty funny, and kind of strange to think about it, but it was something different. It was probably the first time I actually got to know a girl before I got they¡¯re number. We first started off quite innocent actually. We simply chatted through e-mails for a little bit. We became comfortable with each other. One day I just decided to give her my address, I wanted to send letters. Call me a romantic, using such a time consuming way of communicating, rather then the instant gratification of e-mail and online chatting. I felt that all the online madness today just wasn¡¯t as genuine then taking the time to write your feelings. I don¡¯t know but its something about writing that you just get a better feel for the person. Its as if with every word you write you put your soul, feelings, and heart into it. Its not as detached as sending a letter through e-mail.
Well as I sent her my address I was afraid I was taking it too quickly. Maybe it was just a step too quick. Maybe I was just getting ahead of myself, and I was really discouraged when she never wrote to me, for a while she didn¡¯t even send me an e-mail. But for a golden heart relieving moment, I found a letter addressed to me in the mail. The delicate letters spelled out my name and the address. I treated it like gold. I opened it carefully, not wishing to tear the envelope. I could tell she had soft hands. Her flowing writing graced the paper. Her words spoke to my soul. Her careful use of words told me she contemplated the right words to use. I was relieved to find that she wished to continue our conversations as pen-pals. I was thoroughly relieved.
For over a year, we wrote back and forth to each other. Her letters came often, and I wrote back often. We found solace in each other. There was nothing better then writing your feelings down on the page. You embody each of your thoughts with the words you write. We shared a connection that only grew stronger with each word we wrote. Then came a day, I still have the letter with me to date. Her words still echo in my mind as I read them. ¡°Would you like to meet sometime?¡± I was ecstatic. I felt my heart ache with the anticipation of the day we were to meet. We were to meet at the Long Beach town center.
She was going to be holding a rose, and I was to bring a white carnation to identify each other. My heart ached with the anticipation as I walked into the crowded square.
I searched for the rose. My heart sank as I looked around myself. The carnation held delicately in my left hand, as I saw a flower stand, selling red roses for the masses of couples there. Hundreds of women carrying roses bought by the men they loved. The red blurred my view as I grew hectic looking for the one who was to be mine. My heart dropped to my stomach as I lost hope, how was I ever to find the girl to be mine. I dropped the carnation with my hopes for a true love dashed away. I sat upon the bench, I sighed with the loss. Then the most amazing girl I have seen in my life walked past me. Her hair tied loosely to her back, with the eyes of one who were searching for something. Her black skirt, not short, but flowing showed her exquisite form. I caught her eye, and I looked deep into her eyes. Her eyes met mine, I felt my heart ached. She smiled and winked at me as she walked to the near by Starbucks. I felt her drawing me toward her, but I remembered, she wasn¡¯t what I came here for. I sighed and looked back the other way. A glimmer a white caught my eye. There pinned to a women¡¯s shoulder was a white rose. It shined through like a beacon calling my attention. I looked at the stand and found no white roses in sight. I choked a bit and realized that she was the one I came for.
The women was not exactly the epitome of my ideal girl. Her thick legs stood in shoes too small for her feet. She was large, to say the least. I looked back to see the girl that winked at me sitting alone at the Starbucks drinking a coffee. My pull of attraction to the girl was overwhelming, I was, to say the least, attracted to her. But I needed something more. I felt a strong urge to meet the women I had been writing to for so long. My heart went out to the women with the white rose. I sought something deeper. I was tired of searching for someone I truly felt in tune with. I turned my back on the girl and strode forth to the women, finally I was to meet Alise. She may have been old and overweight, but I sought a deeper companionship.
¡°Hello, Alise?¡± I bravely said.
¡°I¡¯m sorry dear. But my names not Alise?¡±
¡°Beg your pardon?¡±
¡°Oh this white rose? So you¡¯re the boy, yes, a young lady in a black skirt just came by and asked me to do a favor for her. She asked me if I could simply wear this white rose for her a while.¡±
My heart soared.
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Enter My Head!
Last edited by TyGer STyLe on 11-18-2002 at 04:01 AM
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11-16-2002 08:42 AM
u should write a book... haha.
