I feel like I'm throwing away a rose that was once beautiful, but isn't anymore. And I know that it shouldn't be thrown away, because in the back of my head, something is telling me that it will bloom again. That's my problem. The winter is here, and I just can't hold on to a summer rose. The beauty lives on in the pictures I took, but the love that was there just...isn't. I don't want my rose to bloom for anyone else, other than me. But I want to give my attention to other flowers as well. So...I throw the wilted rose away, but while I'm walking back to the house, I turn around and make a promise. "I promise I'll come back for you one day. When roses are to come back in bloom, after this cold, hard winter, I'll come back. And maybe, just maybe, you'll bloom for me again."
