just like that, it was over.

the person i had spent seven months devoting myself to, giving everything i had, removed from my life. without a trace.

without a trace, except the dead roses that lined my wall.

he used to buy me flowers. when he loved me.

rather than throwing them away when they died, i would hang then from a picture frame on my wall, so i could remember his love whenever i questioned it.

after it was over, after i drove away from his house, tears flooding my eyes blurring the road that lied in front of me, the road that led me home to my dad, who carried me into the house.

my dad, who saved me. my dad, every girls first love.

my dad, who sat me at the kitchen table and reminded me of my worth.

days and days went by where i would lay in my bed and stare, at the dead roses.

the dead roses were mocking me.

they haunted my room, yet i couldnt bring myself to get rid of them.

i wanted to rip them from the wall and stomp on them, the way he stomped on my heart.

but every time i got up to do so, i froze.

i couldnt do it.

i did this for days, until my dad came to my room with a trash bag and told me it was time.

he watched me cry like a baby as i gently seperated the dead roses from the wall, rubbing my back and assuring me that i would make it.

who knows where the dead roses are now, all i know is that they are no longer in my room.