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4/23/11

Ghost Of A Rose (ROSE WHITE LOVE STORY)

I and I, two other people apart from each other about the situation and character. I live in the house freely without any meals are all full members. My parents are teaching jobs, living quietly and homesick. I like the choice of peace, love nostalgia cafe Cheng muses. I like crowded public places, like Rock cafe full of cigarette smoke to the foul odor, ringing open sincere and swaying to the intoxicating music fanatic. You and me, two different worlds, but he met, fell in love again, just because pink and white flowers.

By chance we met at the wedding of a friend. Wedding flower arrangements she had thrown away a bunch of white roses in our past - friends of the bride and groom arrive early to help prepare. I picked up the flowers as well as touching a girl. The girl smiled "Beautiful flowers like this that leave? It is true that there are only two people in love is a beauty! ». I smile after hearing me say that.
After the wedding, she actively for my phone number. 3 months after the wedding, she loves me actively speak. 6 months after the wedding, she gave me a bouquet of white roses.
- The color white symbolizes the purity you ah!
- Also I like white because I like the single straightforward. But you know, the simplest in this world is?
I shook my head gently. I rely heavily on my heart 'is death'. I told you to say nonsense. Nguech mouth when you smile 'because white symbolizes mourning! ».
My mother suggested guide you home. She always thought that a girl must know to play a musical instrument. So, my sister was learning the violin since age 5. I brought this for my anxiety. I smiled "I play guitar so his adventure ah '. Oh dear! That's not the instrument that defines my mother that her daughter should know how to play. But I do not care about that, I jumped onto the podium Happiness, put the guitar into a strong and quick hands on the strings, who jumped invigorating. I'm out, waiting for you. 15 minutes later, I'm out, invited me to jam pack of cigarettes. I turned sharply away mad 'daughter was not smoking! His mother hates her daughter to smoke! ». I whistled a little longer "and that's my style. Why his son is also the daughter smoking is not? ».
I left. I do not interfere again. I turned on music and the lord chan rang again. As my friends still stop, your world and I can not harmonious. Whether I try my best, then you will still gotten flat, because what exists in the dictionary, my life is constant, is unique and even though I interrupted in my life , there will be no one what belongs to me fall into that dictionary.

I keep a diary, about me, about my feelings. And those words blurred by the tears away. A 24-year-old boy crying because a girl is not feminine, not soft. My mother would never accept that. But then the sky that how bad ground, I accidentally dropped my notebook journal at the windowsill between 2 and 3 storey staircase. Mother read. That afternoon, she told me that she understood in modern times, about a girl who love Rock is normal or even show the girl's ego. Just advise her to quit, because smoking is harmful to health. The mother will help him, just sent me back to meet my mother.
Glad I went looking for them. Gym stayed quiet sad song im after a huge key. To Rock cafe, see the message closes. Driving me back way home, she helped open the "She's gone. To the U.S.. She sent him this'.
"Brother! I apologize for not speaking to him. I sent him the music that you like best. I hope you will like it. Folk tunes in his gentle sir. Promise Me, When 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. "
Enclosed letter is a record. I put the disc into the headphone, images of roses white smooth out. In very white, very gentle, but do I feel this way? After gently guitar prelude, clear voice of the children took up the rhythm. Why so sad voice over?? "The simplest one is death," I saw fear suddenly remembered that saying of me.
I hurried to my house again, headphones fit in his coat pocket, along the whole my house, not a moment that I do not listen to my song. Luckily I met my mom at home port, after knowing that I am a loving daughter, my mother gave me my phone number. I rushed to call, on the other end, I realized my voice, not what I said wait, I sing "Promise Me, When 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 you gently, "You promised me!". Uh, I promise. Then I hung up, I could say no to anything more.
Since then, regularly every Sunday, I received a beautiful bunch of white roses very doorstep. These flowers do not know who to send. No one with any card.
Until one day, on the anniversary that I have declared my love to me, he had white roses with a card with the words "Promise me, you see khi , 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 call to America, only the sound resounds long headline. I went to my house, they said that this house had been sold a week. They said the sentence discrete "America", "car", "white," "Hurricane," "Mountains and Sea", "loop." From that day on I no longer get any white flowers each Sunday as well.
I search through the pages looking to see in America have any automobile accident in that area on my last day flowers sent to me or not. I have a friend that the study and their relationship to ask for news of you. I call to Vietnam's embassy in the USA, all the answers are not making me happy.

Mother advised me not sad anymore. Mother, father and sister tried to do everything sad going to let me down. But I can not. Every day, the work that I spend more time finding information about them. Find more and more stuck. But she said that no news means no bad news, it makes me calmer.
To one day have a fork-year-old boy to find it my sister, he has brought a guitar. Looking at the guitar that I miss you remove the skin, to the point of burning hearts. I ask that he taught his guitar. I studied hard, hard as ants. I learned all the music reviews that I've played before, especially the Ghost of a Rose. But even trying but could not play like I was, I listened to the songs in the disc you left me at any time to spare. I let it make phone ringtones, music as an alarm to it every morning, just because I want to hear my voice, just because I love you so much.
My sister was listening to songs all day that , also crashed out as I love it. I would suggest you guitar, while my children sing. I agree. With the help of your sister, boy, we recorded and put this song on the blog of two brothers. Diary pages are decorated with pink flowers to the pristine white smooth. ...

Blogs I play again. I stopped listening to Ghost of a Rose to send me back. But somewhere, suddenly go through the flower shop, or stroll through the forest on the way home than 50km, when he saw the white roses, I still think of you, as it has promised. Suddenly, I see you fleeting moment, and that is where it gently saying, "Promise Me, When 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 again the guitar sounded, very gentle surf, like wind, like breath, like the sound of my heart, even the eternal sadness that yet another explanation.

As soon as I decided to only love white roses themselves without expressing hearts out again, when suddenly you come back. With a pristine white dress, team with a laurel wreath plaited white roses and satisfied smile.
Mother appeared, told me that she had lung cancer from her, she lives so pessimistic Stage set as smoking. But then, love Rock and my love did you know that you need to have the energy to heal, and children to America, to confront disease and strange that they have overcome it, to return to the me. Own mother told me I was going, who instead gave me a white rose for me every Sunday, is the same I love my guitar more than me, help me through the day without you by my side.

... Our experienced wedding full of white roses. And everyone smiles of pure and clear as her flower color.
Suu tam

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