He bought me a pair of high-heels for our first month anniversary. They were ruby red and all sparkly; the kind of red that screams fierce, fearless and dangerous. The kind of red that makes you feel sexy and good about yourself. Leather, four inches tall; way too provocative for my little girl-next door figure.
“You bought me heels?” It was obviously a stupid question to ask, since the answer was lying in the black box in my hands. Some questions you just have to ask, even though you already know the answer.
He shrugged and smiled at me; I liked his smile so much.
“I thought they’d look good on you”

All of a sudden, he seemed nervous; nervous at the idea that red heels weren’t quite as romantic as red roses. He was probably thinking then that he should have just went along and bought the roses like every other boyfriend would have.
“If you don’t like them, I can bring them back!” His hands were shaking as he reached, almost desperately, towards the pair of shoes.
I hugged the heels to my chest protectively, they were mine.
“Are you trying to take your gift back?” I teased him.
He looked at me then: “Only if you want me to”
“Are you kidding me?” I kissed him on the cheek.
“It’s like I’m Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz!”
He kissed me then so passionately that I wondered if he was scared I’d disappear if I tapped my heels together twice.
I had no intention in going home; he was home.
“Let me help you put them on!” He said suddenly, taking the magic slippers from me.
“They are so high, I’m afraid I might fall” I wasn’t used to wearing these; I was used to my plain old flats.
But then again, I liked the idea of changing and growing up. I liked the idea of getting to see the world from a whole new point of view; seeing was life was like from on top of the world.
“I won’t let you fall” He smiled.

This was the part where I should have begun to feel scared.
The sentence every boy says in every romantic movie. The sentence that often turns out to be the lie everything is built on. But then again, he wasn’t a liar; he meant it. They were just heels, and this wasn’t a movie.
In fact, if this had been a movie he would have bought me flowers; not heels. If this was a movie, I would have jumped up and down from excitement, even though I hate flowers because they are so plain and boring.
I sat down on the floor and he sat next to me. I put the heels on and instantly felt different, even though I knew very well that I wasn’t.
Being the helpful man that he was, he helped me up. We both knew that I didn’t have enough balance to do it on my own. I tried to take one step forward but my legs started shaking. I held on to him, afraid he’d start moving just like Dorothy’s house had. He laughed and grabbed my hands.
“I’ll help you walk”
Gently, he taught me how to walk again. One step after the other; left, right, left, right; again and again.
“How is the view from up there?” He teased me.
“Magical” I laughed. I twirled and twirled in my ruby shoes until I got dizzy. Time passed and I could hear him laughing along with me.
I don’t know how much time passed between then and the moment he let go. How much time between the twirling and the falling...
That day, I learned one very important thing: that it is much easier to fall from four inch heels than flats.
And again, unfortunately for me; it is also much harder to pick yourself up from the floor with four inch heels.
He’d put me on a pedestal; seen me greater then I’d actually been. He’d made up an image of me, and being only human; I couldn’t fit into the picture. It was like he’d imagined me as a 500 piece puzzle, when I really only had 250 pieces. In the end, he could only be disappointed and filled with a feeling of having an incomplete puzzle in his hands. Maybe I was incomplete, but I was happy as an incomplete work of art; a work in progress.
I wish he’d bought me roses and held my hand as we walked together, both in our plain old flats, seeing the world from the same height.
Maybe, just maybe, we would have found a way to keep the roses alive…