The Rose Not Plucked

P.C. https://w-dog.net/

Some people are just...they have it all. 

I am just someone. I did not start with a high note. Though being the first child and only daughter, I never had any such advantage with my family. Probably being the elder child sucks. The performance pressure is high, as I would be the first one to step down into the manhole of the society. I became the yardstick to denote how successful the parenting has been till far. They were busy bringing me up to the best of me. I don't know when the childhood faded away, even from my memories. 

I remember the torture school was. It was a barrel of competitions. I bagged few prizes but they were never enough. Adolescence was as usual rebellious and gave way to a disturbed start to a young me. I did my best to absolutely screw it up with many fallacies. 

I never took an interest to be a winner or any role model to anyone. That was just a phase I had least control on. Neither I had any intention of improvising myself. I remember it as the age of desolation. Without my girlfriend beside me, I would have been a piece of rug by now. All hail to that girl with immense patience and deep wisdom who shaped me as someone. Though I went to battles many times, I was she who dressed my wounds and made me a stronger warrior for the next battle. 

During all these bygone years, never there was an attempt made to pull me close to them and talk. I miss those talks I never had. May be those would have made me a better person, a better daughter, or better student, or better fighter. At least I would not have been seeking hands of people who can fly out any time. The nest I should return to is practically non-existing. Fortunately, I found solace in skies of distant borders. 

The recent developments has brought me close to a person who couldn't care less if the world breaks loose to be beside me. His love has been the only strength holding me up, the only hope keeping me alive. With all the fard of goodness, he has made me realise how much  have missed on life. In isolation with him, I am the happiest soul. Thunder strikes when he projects the unwelcoming nest and the twisted branch-forks. That's the pain I have been protecting myself from, and yet, my heart's jewel pinches me. I wish I had my girl now. I cannot remember a more desperate need of her; ever second night tempting me to give in to a log body, days pushing to edge of cliffs. He is the best one can wish for. I am surely lucky to have him and be showered with his precious love, but the constant competition and tussle of backyards is vampirious. 

Roses come with thorns. I am clueless if this is a new battle and whether to win it or to lose it.