I need to keep this. It’s all I have left. A single bloom from a discarded bouquet. . .sadly, quite fitting. It’s all been cast away now, except for the remaining aftermath, not nearly as bright and beautiful as this rose. Eventually, this will fade and memories of it being as it appears now will slowly but certainly disappear. Might this be my unspoken wish? Memories hold such lovely thoughts when they are bright and fresh. It’s the looking back and seeing those happy times fade and die that hurts.