The Rose

I got into my office today after weekend feeling a bit refreshed thinking of all of those tasks I have to finish and hoping that I can keep on feeling good.Once I got there, I forgot all about my content and cheerfulness when I found the rose on my table wilted.

I have not been a fan of flowers and I have not bought flowers for myself. However, I always hoped that someone would give me flowers some day. Yea, that would be a sweet gesture. But what is it exactly that made me feel this way? What is this bond that came to the surface all of a sudden between flowers and myself?

Then it struck me. It is not the flower in the simple manner, but it is what the flower stands for. When I had it, I felt good about myself. It looked nice, sweet and innocent. Every time I felt down, I picked it trying to smell its odor. Its presence just me me feel good about myself, my life and my job. Maybe, it is just like love, or that is what I think.

That's when I signed into my Facebook account and wrote the following status, "Love is like a beautiful rose. It's always a delight to have it, look at it all day long and smell its beautiful odor. But, it breaks you when you see it wilt."

I guess I need to get another flower at once.