I am a rose, a beautiful red rose that was grown so people could enjoy me, for flowers tend to bring smiles to people’s faces. I was planted in a luscious garden until one day, I felt myself being picked from the dirt. The face of a young man stared down at me.
            
“I hope she likes it,” I heard him mutter to himself. I was held firmly in his hand as he walked for a good 5 minutes until we reached a door. He knocked and soon, a pretty young lady opened it.
           
“Hi Nick,” she said timidly.
            
“Hi Julia, you look great. I – uh – got you this,” Nick said handing me to Julia. She accepted it graciously and said, “Thank you! Let me get my sweater, I’ll be right back.” Nick nodded his head and Julia turned, put me in a vase, put on her sweater, and closed the door behind her as she and Nick headed into the night. I waited there until late into the night when Julia danced through the doorway. There was a big smile on her face and she hummed a joyous tune as she cleaned up around the house. Later that night, I heard her talking to her mother.
            
“Yeah Mom, I think he’s the one. He’s such a gentleman, he brought me a rose,” she exclaimed happily, looking over at me; I tried straightening my stem, wanting to be on my best performance. And so it went, for the next few weeks, Nick and Julia would leave at night and sometimes the day, and Julia would always return, floating on Cloud 9. I, on the other hand, was thriving. Julia took the best care of me, as I reminded her of Nick’s love for her.
            
But as all flowers do, my health started to falter and so did Nick and Julia’s relationship. Some days, Julia would be standing by the door waiting patiently for Nick, but he would never show up. Other nights, Julia would call him on his phone and he failed to pick up. Slowly Julia started to have doubts about Nick’s so-called “love” for her. Surprisingly, one night Nick did show up, and I heard loud voices outside and a few minutes later Julia returned, slamming the door behind her. Tears were streaming down her face and she ran up the steps. I, however, was not feeling so well. Like Nick and Julia’s connection, I felt myself dying. As Julia was having her doubts about Nick, she seemed to forget about me. 
            
Late the next morning, Julia slowly walked down the steps, her arms full of anything that reminded her of Nick; pictures, his jacket, the teddy bear that he won her, and the sweater she wore on their first date. She dumped them into a box by the door and let out a sad sigh. She turned to sit down and her gaze fell on me. A small sob escaped her mouth and she yanked me out of my vase and flung me out the window. I landed in a soft patch of dirt. And I thought “If you love a flower, don’t pick it up. Because if you pick it up it dies and it ceases to be what you love. So if you love a flower, let it be. "Love is not about possession. Love is about appreciation."