Give 'em white roses

I and me, two other people apart on the circumstances and personalities. You are free to live in homes without adequate meal every member. My parents both worked as teachers, gentle, graceful living. I like the peaceful place, like Zheng mused nostalgic cafe.

***

I like places where the general public, like Rock cafe full of smoke to the foul odor, acrid chan widened music and crazy drunk swaying in rhythm. I and me, two different worlds, but met her, love each other, just because white roses species.

By chance we met at the wedding of a friend. Wedding flower arrangement she had thrown away one bunch of white roses overtaken us - friends of the bride and groom arrived early to help prepare. I picked up the bouquet is when touching a girl. She smiled: "States that leave this beautiful? It is true that there are only 2 people to be in love with the beauty!". I laughed after hearing you say that.

After the wedding, they proactively give me your phone number. 3 months after the wedding, I love my proactively addressed. 6 months after the wedding, she gave me a bouquet of white roses.

- White is purity symbolized honey!

- And I like white because I like the simplicity. But you know, the easiest in the world is?

I shook my head gently. I rely heavily in my heart: "As the death". I told you nonsense. I laugh nghuech mouth: "As white symbolizes mourning!".

My mother suggested I bring him home. She always had the thought, the daughter must learn to play one instrument. So my sister was studying the violin since he was 5 years old. I bring this anxiety for children. I smiled: "I play guitar much adventure you sir". Oh god! That's not the kind of instrument that defined my mother that her daughter needs to know to play. But I do not mind it, I leapt onto the podium, wearing a guitar in hand and fast hard on the strings, who jumped burning.

I go out, wait for me. 15 minutes later, you come out, holding the pack up my invitation. I irritated brushed away sharply: "Girls are not smoking! His mother hated daughter smokes!". I hissed one breath: "That's my style already. Why is smoking son daughter also do not?"

I walked away. I do not interfere again. You turned on and the music sounded chan Princess. As a friend I still kept from my world and I could not get along. Whether I have tried my best, then I still would deflect it away, because what exists in my life dictionary is immutable, is unique and although I have interrupted my life , there will be no one what belongs to me fall into his dictionary.

I write the diary, about me, about my feelings. And the words smudged away by tears. A 24 year old boy that cried because one girl did not feminine, not gentle. My mother would never accept that. But land that heaven how bad I accidentally dropping his diary at the windowsill between 2 and 3 storey staircase Mother read.

That afternoon, she told me that she understood in modern times, the story of a passionate rock girl is normal, even showing the girl's ego. Advise girls just quit, because smoking is harmful to health. The mother will help him, just my mother took me to see.

I happily went to find you. Quiet room sad song after a huge padlock. Visit Rock cafe, find closure notice. Driving me backwards way home, she dominated the opening: "She's gone. Sang America. She sent you this."

"Brother! I'm sorry for going without saying a word to him. I sent him back to the music that you like best. I hope you will like it. These gentle folk melodies in a bye"

Enclosed with the letter was a record. I put the disc into the headphone, the image of a white rose bouquet out. In very white, very sweet but do I see so sad? After gentle guitar intro, her clear voice sung to the beat. Why so sad vocals em eh? "The simplest one is death," I suddenly saw fear as he remembered her saying that.

I rushed to my house again, the headphone fit in his coat pocket, throughout the road to your house, not a moment that I do not listen to my songs. Luckily I met her mother on the porch, after knowing that I was in love with her daughter, my mother gave me her phone number. I rushed to call, on the other end, I realized my voice, do not wait I say anything, I sing "Promise me, khi you see, a white rose you'll think of me. I love you so, Never let go, I will be your ghost of a rose ". Then I gently "You promised me!". Uh, I promise. Then I hung up, not to give me time to say anything more.

Since then, regularly every Sunday, I received a beautiful bouquet of white roses extremely doorstep. The flowers do not know who to send. Not a card attached.

Until one day, on the anniversary that you confessed to me, bouquet of white roses was accompanied by a card with the words "Promise me, khi you see, a white rose you'll think of me. I love you so, Never let go, I will be your ghost of a rose ". Em, I know it was you. I'm calling to the US, only the voice sounded long headline. I came to your house, they say this house was sold a week. They say those words disjointed "America", "automobile", "white", "storm", "Mountains and Sea", "detour". From that day on, I no longer get any white bouquet every Sunday anymore

I search throughout the site search in the United States see no automobile accident in that area yet on last day to send flowers to my brother or not. I asked a friend to study the party and their relationships to ask about my news. I'm calling to Vietnam's embassy in the US, all the answers are not making me happy.

Mother advised me not sad anymore. Mother, father and sister try to do everything to give me less sad to go. But I can not. On the day job I spend a lot of time is to find information about you. The more you look the more stalemate. But I say, no news means no bad news, it makes me calmer.

Until one day, with one fork-old boy to find it my sister, the boy was carrying a guitar. Look guitar that I miss you to the skin away, to the point of burning hearts. I ask that boy taught himself guitar. I studied hard, diligently as an ant. I'm learning to type all that previously tracks I played, especially Ghost of a Rose. But no matter how I try, I still did not play like they are, I listen to songs on the disc you leave any time I have free time. I leave it as phone ringtone, alarm music to it every morning, just because I want to hear your voice, just because I love you so much.

My sister heard all day was that song, it's like falling in love with me as well. I suggested that I would play the guitar, and you're singing. I agree. With the help of the boy you sister, we recorded and put this song on the blogs of two brothers. Diary pages are decorated with white roses to the pristine.

....

I closed the blogs again. I stopped listening to Ghost of a Rose Kids resubmit. But somewhere, suddenly goes through florist, or stroll through the woods on the way home at 50km, at the sight of white roses, I still think of you, as had been promised. Suddenly, I still see you in a moment, fleeting, still seen gently somewhere saying "Promise me, khi you see, a white rose you'll think of me. I love you so, Never let go, I will be your ghost of a rose ".Roi guitar sounded, glides well, like wind, like your breath, like the sound of my heart, even more nostalgia forever remain unexplained .

As soon as I decided to only white roses love for self hearts without manifest again, then suddenly they return. With a pristine white gown, the festival laurels with white roses and contented smile.

Mother appeared, telling me that he had lung cancer from childhood, they should be as pessimistic life workout smoke. But then, love Rock and my love did you know that you should have the power to cure, and children to the United States, struggling with illness and strange that you've overcome it, to return to the party i. It was my mother who advised me I was going, who replaced me gave me white roses every Sunday, and my brother who I love guitar more help, help me go through the day without you beside.

.....

Our wedding strewn with white roses. And everybody smile pure and limpid as her flower color.