The Roses.

In one of my highschools(I attended 3) every Valentine’s Day the Student Council had this thing where you could buy and order a long-stemmed red rose for the one you like.(Generally from boys to girls, although I did send a boy I liked one secretly) I had always hoped to get one, but knowing I never would(and I didn’t.) I was always full of such expectation and hope, thinking that THIS time my time would come; that finally a boy would like me,but sadly it never happened; I never got a single rose and once again my hopes, dreams,and self-esteem were shattered. What hurt even more is seeing other girls getting roses(and almost everyone DID; once again I was in the small minority) even 5-10 roses EACH, and I never got even one. It was embarrassing and humiliating, esp. when asked “how many” roses I got and I would quietly whisper(under my held-back tears) quivering, “None.” I knew one girl in particular who was popular with the boys and she’d saunter over and in front of everyonbe loudly ask me(knowing very well I had none and she had lots) and then she’d smirk in satisfaction and brag loudly how many SHE got, making me feel even smaller. So, what I did the next year was this: I devised this clever idea to anonymously send MYSELF a rose with “From your Secret Admirer” on it. When she saw it she was horrified and dumbfounded with shock ,gasping “WHO sent it to YOU?” and kept demanding to know and then went around asking all the boys who sent it and,of course, no one said they did, and she was FURIOUS with rage and consumed with curiousity,and BTW, I never DID tell.

Now whenever I see red roses those memories come flooding back; how no one liked me, how boys always  overlooked and ignored me, how ugly and invisible I am. The fact is, the only guy that ever DID notice me was my hubby. The odd time he has given me long-stemmed red roses, which I DO love, and perhaps in a way is “making up” for all the ones I was denied before, and distraught over.If life is a popularity contest I fail miserably.