A Dying Rose...

I woke up one warm february night feeling parched and my throat dry, so i got up and made my way to the kitchen to get me a glass of water. In order to reach our kitchen, you must always go through the dining room first. Otherwise, you have to gain access to the kitchen via the back door, meaning you would have to come from the outside in order to get in.

Stumbling my way through the dark, arms outstretched before me serving as my eyes, a scent had greeted my olfactory senses that sent a chill down my spine. i cannot describe the exact scent in words, but i can describe the aroma when likened in feeling however...

it is the smell of a grieving mother over the death of her son, who had fought courageously in battle for his country, but has come home as nothing but an empty shell in an anonymous wooden box, yet another casualty of war. another name written on Death's ugly black book.

it is the smell of a father never coming home, after having left his wife of many years for a mistress of a few months.

it is the smell of his children, growing up never knowing who their father is...was. it is the smell of their shattered aspirations. the smell of the broken pieces of their hearts and lives as they try to make sense of it all...

it is the smell of disappointment, as one finds out that life is not as colorful as one may have thought at five...

it is the smell of a young child who has lost his one and only toy Superman on the bus coming home, and the smell of his young optimism, believing with all of his little heart he will find it one day...and yet growing up never even remembering...

it is the smell of divorce. it is the smell of greed. the smell of murder and the smell of suicide. it is what clings to corrupt politicians and crocodile policemen. it's what's soaked in the articles of coroners and gravesyard keepers. it's the smell none of us want...yet could never avoid.

it was the saddest of all smells and the scariest of all smells. It was the kind of smell you would find at funerals and wakes. The kind that even though its fragrance is soft and subtle, will definitey wake you up in the dead of night.

i tried to discern where that smell was coming from...and where it led me to was the oddest of all places...

no, i did not find a tear in time and space which took me to another dimension of reality...nor did i find no pandora's box or mysterious secret doors.

four days ago i had received anonymous gifts at our door, among which was a beautiful glass vase crowded with two dozen dark velvety red roses. they were the prettiest and most aromatically pleasing anyone had ever given me. later on did i find out they were in fact from a friend of mine who i had had a recent bout with.

my mom put the beautiful roses on our dining room table. a beautiful centerpiece, she said. and she was right. i spent quite some time just staring at the flowers...closing my eyes and let its aroma sink in. why can't the most expensive perfumes smell even half as good as the smell God had blessed these roses with..?

for a time the roses had filled the house with its sweet scent. the cake was gone. the chocolates were gone. but the roses still remained. it was a comforting thought. that even though some things fade and are depleted, some things also stay...

and then came the night i awoke to that horrid scent...

i do not remember how that beautiful smell evolved into something so ugly. i guess the transition was so subtle it was hardly noticeable. but i guess nothing is quite unnoticeable to a nose that has just awaken, nerves and mucus membranes still fresh and alive.

the following morning i asked the maid to throw the roses away...but the awful smell still lingered in the air. it wasn't as awful as the smell of cat's shit and pee mixed together in a bowl made out of dead stink bugs. but it was a dead smell nonetheless. the death of something so beautiful. and to me that i think is far worse than cat crap and piss.

at that time i was not aware it was a foreshadowing. a foreshadowing of a relationship i was very soon to lose...

i am still in good terms with the one who sent the roses, but we remain only as friends, nothing more.

a few days later i had also dumped this guy i was seeing.

there is no moral to this story (at least i think there isn't...or have not thought about it yet) but it is just a story i guess...the story of death. not phyiscal death. but the intangible deaths of relationships people lose everyday. loved ones. family. friends. for reasons as myriad as the petals of two dozen decayed roses.

it was wierd though how i had not felt any remorse or much sadness to the losses i had incurred. i guess they were transcended through the roses...much in the same way Jesus Christ had sacrificed Himself on the cross for our sins so that we may gain salvation.

the roses also made me think, bf-gf relationship wise. i had dumped that guy because he wanted to get all serious. i honestly had been seeking that one real serious relationship...but whenever i felt that something is going there...i suddenly lose interest and want to push him away. is this some sort of defense mechanism..? am i afraid of commitment..? why is it that i like a guy when i don't know he likes me, but when i do know that i have him hooked, lined and sinkered, i suddenly find him boring and "clingy". am i just attracted to a challenge and not the person himself..? why is it that the man i thought i would actually remain attracted with, regardless of finding out if he likes me, turned out to be gay..? am i just attracted to him because i KNOW i will never fully get his attention (knowing he is homosexual and all)..?

these are the questions i ask myself...the questions that plague me and are yet to be answered...

Comments

[dan]

This is beautifully written, and perhaps because i am so full of sadness, it brought tears to my eyes. My tears were not for myself, although i have shed a few in the last few days, but for you and the hurt that comes from the losses in our lives. You may not directly feel remorse Regeene, but feelings are often hidden by our minds when touching them would be painful. They often come out in others ways, and with feelings we can not associate with what is transpiring at the moment. Thus anger occurs when we perceive nothing to be angry at. You are strong, i believe very strong, but no one is without pain from our losses.

My fortunes smile on you and show you beauty and bring you joy!

dan

[dan]

The last line should read, "May fortunes smile..."