How It Feels to Love Him

When I love someone, I feel like a rose in a bouquet of a variety of flowers. I feel special, I feel like the better of the bunch. It makes me feel like the entire bouquet was bought just so he could have me. He will put us in a vase that's beautiful and put something special in the water just so I can live on it. Then I begin to notice he doesn't admire me much. He always gently grazes the other flowers, but he has never even laid a finger upon my petals. Though I feel neglected and am wilting, I still love him anyway. I try to perk up when he comes around, but he still only smiles at the daisies or the lilies. I thought that maybe it was because my petals were too dark. A few of my petals begin to turn brown from the neglect, but I still love him anyway. After a week of not being what he admired, I begin to wilt even more and my petals fall off one by one. His smile was supposed to be my sunlight, but it never shined on me. Then he finally notices me, he finally picks me up! Even in my frail state, I love him because he is finally ready to shine his light upon me. I love him so much that my petals have turned black from holding on to my hopes; and when I expect sunshine, I get darkness. I finally found myself falling but not in love. I have fallen into this dark hole, my fallen petals falling with me, and the water that was once pure now drowns me in this dark sorrow. By the time he closes off the last bit of light I see, I realize that he didn't see me as a rose. He didn't see me as beautiful, as important. He saw me as an insignificant piece of trash and I was only there to watch him fall in love with other flowers.