Growing
All those teenage years, all I know was
White Roses symbolizes love,
Pink Roses symbolizes how carefree I can be, but then of all the colors of rainbow, I find Blue as the color of water, or on the worst part I always look to it as my tears.
As I celebrate my 18th birthday, I request for Blue Roses.
My Father gave it to me.
How wonderful to received your first bouquet of flowers from a man,
You knew from the start he always treats you
Like a princess,
Like you’re the source of his happiness.
I neither cried nor kissed him the way daughter do when he gave me the bouquet of blue roses.
I admit that I’m not showy, and that’s what annoy him the most.
He is really the only man that I met, who tries his very best to make me feel special.
Deep down, I am beyond blessed to have this man.
Come to think of it, your favorite flowers on earth was given by a man, who loves you unconditionally.
A man who may scolds you, but it’s because
He wants you to be better,
To be strong enough,
To believe more in yourself,
To love others, but not in a point that you forget to respect yourself.
I think that one of the reasons why God created a man is because they are not only here to express and give love,
But to teach a woman to respect
Their own skin, self, and soul.
How ironic that when we draw water
We colored blue? When we accidentally taste our tears it’s salty as sea?
Before we see rainbow, we hear raindrops, or experience storms.
Before we feel the heat that stays on our skin, we pull our sweaters, and hold hands together, or embrace tightly to minimize goose bumps brought by the cold nights.
Do we really need to wait for cold nights to touch and long for each other?
Do we really have to wait that long to appreciate that everybody’s more than just skin and bones?
The truth is we are like blue roses, or red roses, or any kind of flowers
Our skins will going to be rough and dry,
We will all die,
We will all have thorns like roses,
It’s just a matter on how people will hold us, and never let us go despite of the thorns that we have,
It’s how we grow again without other people’s ray of sunshine every now, and then,
It’s about wanting and believing that someone will water us again with great admiration and love,
Someone who will not try to fix us, but he is okay even if you mess up sometimes, because for him that is part of the self-love process.
To be a beautiful flower, you have to accept yourself.
You will bloom from the soil, where your parents had planted you,
You don’t have to worry,
Your Father will water you first thing in the morning,
Your Mother will put fertilizers on you, so that by the time a good man picks you up he will realize that you’re worth the wait.
He will be proud of you, because you know how to give love with an intentions of teaching him the value of self-love.
He will be amazed by how you handle yourself gracefully, even though there are some days you could go crazy.
He will be flattered, because he is going to see the side of yours, which everybody didn’t saw.
He will kiss you gently,
In every scars that you have.
He will caress your face over and over again,
He will say to you, eye to eye,
“Where have you been all my life?”
You will hug him, because that is your favorite thing in the world, hugging people.
As you hugged him, he will whisper to you,
“Stay. Stay with me,
And I will show you that this is your time,
This is ours.
You will not be broken again,
And if you feel you’re,
I will let you fix yourself,
Because no one’s going to fix, not me.
I am here to say that it’s okay to be broken, as long as you figure out how to fix yourself.
If I will be gone, there’s one thing I like to teach you again, do not leave yourself , even if they leave.
I’ll go back again, and I’ll tell you the reasons why I love you, for you know how to love me unconditionally without losing yourself”
- Christine Rhea
