I looked at the shriveled roses, the ends of the stems resting in two inches of slimy water, the sides of the vase cloudy with residue, browning petals and dry leaves scattered on the table around the base of the vase. Just two days ago they were gorgeous with dewy petals of yellow tipped with red, vibrant green leaves, resting in crystal clear water that refracted rainbows through the vase. I should throw them out, I thought to myself. But I didn’t. I reached past them to grab a wine glass out of the cabinet. One more day to feel sorry for myself, I thought. I’ll throw them out tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll start my life without you. Today, I will cry over broken promises and lost dreams. Tomorrow I will start to build a new normal.