GA Writing Prompts - 27. # 94 Red Rose

Red Rose

Samantha turned her head and looked at me.

"I have never confessed this to you. I cherish your company. I always feel happy when you are around," she said with a smile.

A blush graced her face and she looked away briefly before turning her eyes back to me. I took her hand gently. A moment or two passed before we moved on. We walked arm in arm amidst the flowers. We moved down the path in the park, nodding politely at the people we passed. A girl walked hand in hand with her boyfriend. An older woman carried a kitten. Her husband complained about a flat tire. The woman gave him a reassuring smile.

Samantha turned her head to me.

"Look at them all. They walk hand in hand and smile at each other. Sometimes I wonder what they really feel for each other," she said. "Do they really feel love for each other? Or are they just pretending they do so? What is love anyway?"

I smiled at her. I smoothed down my blue shirt.

"A complicated topic," I said. "Philosophers have mused on it for ages."

Samantha looked at me. She gave me another smile.

"I’d rather say that love is what lovers talk about," she said.

"Certainly," I said with a nod. "But have you ever asked yourself if the love that you feel is genuine and true?"

Samantha raised an eyebrow and a faint frown crossed her face. I raised my hand.

"Let me explain," I said.

I picked a red rose and handed it to her.

"Look at this rose, Samantha. What can we tell each other of it? When you look at this rose, you remember other roses you have seen. Real roses and images of roses. A rose on a valentine card, for instance. The rose you hold in your hand is attached to the memories of other roses, to the memories of things that happened in your life, to people you met, to thoughts you had and to feelings you sensed. This rose is your very particular rose, Samantha. And to me, this rose is a very particular rose as well. So, when we talk about the rose in your hand, do we really talk about the same flower?"

Samantha nodded slowly.

"I doubt we would fully understand each other’s rose," she said with a smile. "I see what you’re trying to say. Can we truly understand each other’s love?"

I nodded at her.

"People have tried for ages and they will try forever. Will they ever understand the secret of love?" I asked. "Do you feel the tragedy of love, Samantha? Eternal longing and eternal melancholy. They are forever entwined."

I sighed. Samantha laughed softly.

"It seems you admire the French attitude towards love," she said. "Isn’t it called la maladie d’amour?"

I looked at her. Samantha gave me a charming smile.

"The sweet pain of love. Isn’t this the essence of life?" she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

She handed the rose back to me. I smiled and offered my arm to her. I suddenly realized how much I cared for her. I glanced at Samantha. She smiled back at me. And then we moved on. We walked arm in arm amidst the flowers.