Every time I close my eyes I can see the rosebushes that meant so much to Olivia and I. They were just like the ones that decorated the front yard of her childhood home. They alternated red to white all along the house, each one more beautiful than the last.
     Olivia and I grew up together and I never felt closer to her until high school. I started to notice how beautiful she was and how much she meant to me. She had a glow around her like the beautiful roses in her yard. I was never the shy type, except when it came to Olivia. I couldn’t keep myself together when I was around her, she was always so beautiful and…and perfect. It took me a week to gather the courage to ask her out, and when I finally did, I was too late.
     Olivia and I talked almost every night but there were the nights when it was most uncomfortable. Almost every time she talked about him it was about all the sweet things he did and how cute he was. I had never felt emptier in my life. I loved Olivia, not only as a friend but as someone I had literally spent my entire life with. And not only did I love her, I had fallen in love with her. And I was blind with anger towards the guy she was dating. He didn’t care for her the way I did, no one ever could. I tried replacing those futile feelings of love with other girls I was interested in. Girls almost as pretty and almost as charismatic as her, but no one could fill the void. I feared I’d be playing the role of best friend for the rest of my life.
     It wasn’t until seven months into her relationship the she called me teary-eyed and in pain. He dumped her. The next few weeks were full of pain and sorrow, not for me, but for Olivia. And all the while she felt hurt and abandoned; the roses that were once as radiant as vibrant as she was, had lost their color and beauty. The weeks after that had turned for the better. Olivia and I spent even more time together and really grew closer and eventually, we began dating. It didn’t take long for me to open to her and tell her how I truly felt about her. That I had fallen in love with her. And it wasn’t long after that that she had done the same. She had fallen in love with me.
     Time flew by after our lovely realization; we left high school in love and went into college the same way. College seemed to drag on forever for everyone else, but for Olivia and I it was even worse. Yes we were in love and nothing was going to change that, but we wanted to get on with the rest of our lives. Eventually the time came and we graduated college, still in love. A short time thereafter out six year anniversary was upon us. I had been saving for years for her gift when all she got me was handsome, yet cheap pea coat. She asked me where her gift was when, from my left coat pocket, I pulled out two tickets to Madrid, Spain. From my right coat pocket, I pulled out two tickets to London, England. From my left back pocket, were two tickets to Rome, Italy. And finally, from my right back pocket were two tickets to Paris, France. For our six year anniversary she bought me a pea coat, and I bought us a tour of Europe.
     Madrid was fantastic, the history, the food, everything. It cost me a fortune, but our love was more than worth it. Our first night in Spain was the most romantic night of our lives. We sat on the balcony of a local restaurant sipping wine and revisiting old memories like we were old acquaintances. But we were more than that; we were everything to each other. We spent the entire night in each other’s arms, never looking away from each other’s eyes, sharing smiles and wonderful moments. We fell asleep in each others arms and woke up the same way almost every night on our vacation. It was the best time anyone could ever dream of, but I lived it. We spent a week in Madrid and flew to London. London was beautiful; we did everything one could in London. Visit parliament, float down the river Thames, call on the red phone booths, and everything else. Midway through our stay in London Olivia received calls and emails from her neighbors that the roses were wilting. They’d tried to take care of them but they’d lost their sheen and glow. It was almost as though the roses depended on Olivia. Much like I had for a while, but now that we were together, I had no worries about her. I knew we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.
     We finished our tour of London and flew to Rome. We did the typical tourists things in Rome, and from there we took a train up the country into the Tuscan countryside. We both agreed that when we retired, this is where we would live for the rest of our lives. Never had I seen a more beautiful place. The landscapes were breathtaking, the atmosphere was tranquil, and the evenings were like none other. Perfect. The days flew by in northern Italy and we took a train to Paris, France. The last stop on the tour. And I was going to make it the most special day of our lives. We were walking through the city center, passing the Eiffel tower when I had tripped and fallen flat on my face. I tried getting up, but my knee was hurting so I grabbed her hand to help me up. As she tried pulling me up I resisted and pulled a small black box out of my pocket. It took her a while, but she finally realized that I was on one knee, holding her hand, with a tiny black box in my hands. So on one knee, in front of the Eiffel tower, I opened the small black box and asked Olivia to marry me. Her silent, teary-eyed nod was the greatest response ever given to me. We spent that night the same way we began out trip, in each other’s arms.
     Time dragged on until our wedding which flew by without a hitch, as did our honeymoon. But that was the last time I would feel at ease for a very long time.  The first year of our life together was fantastic. We had a house to ourselves in a wonderful neighborhood, and best of all, we had roses decorating our front yard just like Olivia had as a child. It was three years into our marriage that tragedy struck. Olivia was diagnosed with breast cancer. And like other times in the past, the roses faded. It would take a large effort to get over this, but she could do it, I knew she could, and she did. It was minor and she survived in a few short months. The few weeks after she came back home from the hospital our roses were still faded. I didn’t understand it, Olivia was bright and healthy, why weren’t the roses? It wasn’t until hew next doctor’s appointment that I would understand. The roses didn’t come back, but Olivia’s cancer did. And this time wasn’t going to be as easy as last. She was terminal. We were a very young couple in love, about to be separated.
     I spent every day with her knowing that they were numbered. And during that time every continuing day that I was with her was the best day of my life. They were also the sweetest days we shared together. Obviously it was her final days that were the hardest because I knew the inevitable was coming. The love of my life was being taken by something I had no control over. I once against felt empty like I had all those years ago.
As I expected her last day was the worst for me. It was a chilly afternoon at the hospital and I was holding her the warm hand of my love as I was seated by her bedside. We spent the day staring at each other’s eyes and smiling as we did during our trip to Europe, but as night came she gave my hand a squeeze and directed my attention to her eyes. She looked at me for a while and didn’t turn away. She gave a gentle nod and my eyes started to well up with tears. I reached over the railing and gave her a soft kiss. I was out the door with bloodshot eyes and that’s how I drove home. I arrived home, solemnly sat on the couch and broke down in tears. It was a short while later that the hospital called. Time of death 8:17 p.m. Every rose completely wilted away a day later.
     I still think about the roses and what they mean to me. They beauty they held, the secrets they kept, all the memories they brought back. I never thought it was foolish to fall in love so young, because deep down I knew that I would always love her. I now know I should’ve never been afraid of playing the best friend role. Because that’s exactly what she was for me. My best friend. My wife. My lover…My rose. It’s been years since she passed, and every continuing day without her is the worst day of my life. But that will all change soon; because I’m going to go see my sweet and beautiful rose very, very soon.