Sighing, he took out the withered rose from his diary. After decades he was reminded of the day when the rose came into his possession.
“She threw the rose away, buddy. I can’t believe she said no! Nobody says no to me. Who does she think she is?”
He had picked up the rose and kept it, unbeknownst to either party. It was a reminder that she had chosen him over his best friend.
A friend he had always been overshadowed by.
A friend who always got his way around; be it with teachers, the girls he liked, and even with parents.
He still wondered why she chose him but the only response he ever got was, “Because I liked that you weren’t eager to please everyone around you.”
Today, when his fifteen-year-old son said, “Dad, my best friend likes a girl. But I like her too”, it was as if history was repeating itself.
Handing over the rose, he replied, “Keep this with you. You might find yourself in possession of something similar soon.”
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