"Would you like a glass?" I poured
myself wine. "It somehow makes me
feel better when it clears my throat."
"No, I'm o-okay. H-have t-to take
the kids h-home a-after."
"Oh, right. Sorry, I'm not used
to having kids around." I bit my bottom
lip, embarrassed at suggesting such a thing.
"It's okay. H-how w-was it like
being raised here?"
"I don't have anything to complain
about. And I'm so thankful for that.
I don't know how life would have turned
out if I wasn't adopted, and oddly, I don't
want to find out. All of my life's events
have lead to the person I am today, and I
wouldn't change that for anything. What
about you? Would you change how your
life has turned out?" I supported my head
with my hand, balancing my arm on the couch
arm.
"Sometimes, I wish I c-can." Charlie said
quietly, staring into his palms.
"Oh... her?" Good job, Rose. Bringing up
something sad, ah great way to end
the day. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have
mentioned this."
"No, it's o-okay, R-Rose. I-I need t-to
move on. She w-would want me to.
N-no one wants t-to see the p-person
y-you love be sad all the time."
"I agree," I smiled and squeezed his hand.
"I'm here, if you ever need to talk."
"Thank you, Rose. I-I d-don't
know w-why but it feels good
to hear that."
YOU ARE READING
shades of red
Poetrywhen you have too many thorns, all you can do is paint them in red, because, maybe then, they will look like petals [sequel to shades of blue]
