He said, “You’ll have to earn your roses”…

His cold words still echo through the alcoves of my heart…

“You’ll have to earn your roses.  It’ll take at least 7 years!”

I had assumed that he just wasn’t a “flower” guy.  Valentine’s Day, our anniversary, birthday, even the loss of our unborn baby hadn’t brought flowers so he must just not be that type.  But that was okay, not every girl gets flowers. Then the subject came up and as I made excuses for why guys don’t bring flowers home, he laughed and said that he had the flower shop on speed dial when he dated Jane.

Why did she deserve flowers and not I? Why did she deserve to be shown that love and not I?

“Oh, I didn’t always treat her good.  I treated her like sh-t too for a while.  She had to earn her place and flowers just like you’ll have to!”

His words like the cold winds brought dark clouds over my heart, stealing what little sunshine had been there and causing rain drops to tremble in my eyes. Yet, I sat on the couch next to him pretending the conversation was as normal as the weather outside.

“You want some popcorn? I’ll go make some.”

What exactly did he mean by “earn your roses”? What would it take? It wasn’t the roses I really wanted, I wanted what I knew those flowers meant.  He knew what all the colors stood for, he knew how many to get, he knew all the rules… Did he not know how cruel it was to tell an innocent girl who was giving this marriage her all that she would have to “earn your roses”?  If giving him my entire life and doing his every bidding wasn’t enough, then I don’t know what to do…

Red roses, I knew were the promise of love.  Love is gentle, love is kind, love is when the other person’s happiness is more important than your own. Perhaps he really has no love to give, so I will give him mine!

Pink roses breathe appreciation. “Being told you’re appreciated is one of the simplest and most uplifting things you can hear”.

White roses symbolize marriage and new beginnings.  “Always strive to give your spouse the very best of yourself, not what’s left over after you gave your best to every one else”

Orange roses whisper passion.  “Passion is not a spark or a flame; passion is a roaring fire that consumes your soul and ignites your dreams”

Yellow roses bespeak joy and friendship.  “One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood”. I think maybe he has never had a true friend.  One thing that is an ever constant is that he cannot understand when I speak of anything heartfelt.  I will be his true friend, and then perhaps the yellow rose will be mine!

Yet, the harder I tried to “earn my roses” the farther they slipped away.  Like tossing petals in a brook, I tore pieces from my heart only to be wasted and washed downstream by his scorn.

Bright yellow joy died.  Each time my hand of friendship, bravely held forth, was slapped away until the sting of it made me wise enough to shrink back.

The pink warmth of appreciation was as the sunset, no matter how hard I tried to retain it, it faded away into darkness. To appreciate something that doesn’t exist is the same to say how beautiful and warm the sunshine is at midnight.  I thanked him countless times for the love and kindness he never showed.

Looking back I can see that when I showed love, he saw red.  Love to him was just a sign of weakness.

His sharp words left deep wounds on my already bleeding heart.  Mocking the gentleness and kindness that poured from it.

After time, the phrase, “If I don’t love you, you can’t hurt me” became the chant of my soul as the little girl I used to be buried her dreams next to her dying passion under the wall I was building with each stone he cast my way.

Finally the day came when the white rose of marriage breathed her last, and the solemn petal that was left fell to the cold heartless ground.  No matter how many tears I watered her with, she would not grasp hold of life again.  I had given him my best and that’s exactly what he threw back in my face. He so unkindly pulled each soft petal until there were no more petals on the stem. All that was left were the thorns.

He had taught on love, appreciation, marriage, passion and friendship in church, yet he lived none of them.  To his family he was known for the biggest hypocrite in the pew.  I had to earn the right to have these virtues bestowed upon me even though he had promised on our wedding day to bestow them lavishly. He had given the soft petals to the outside and saved the stabbing thorns for those at home…

I stood there gazing at the last of the petals floating hopelessly away from me forever…

Petals…just part of the rose. Bits and pieces of what was once a beautiful flower.  A flower I always dreamed of but never received. Pieces of love, appreciation, marriage, passion, joy and friendship that were harshly torn apart and thrown to the icy brook instead of given to me.

I could never earn my roses…