In a remote soon to be forgotten village. There was once a boy, whose heart and mind differed from the rest. He was never accepted and was often oppressed for having abstract thoughts, or you could simply say for thinking at all. Abused both physically and verbally not only by people from the village, but even more so by his own family. His whole environment constantly crushing him.
The boy was not allowed to own anything, to play, to explore, only using him for labor, with occasional reminding from his mother, how can he have no shame in being alive.
Needless to say, the boy was unhappy.
The only time when he felt better, not even good, but only better than everywhere else, was in barn, late at nights.
Of course he wasn't privileged to have his own room, so the barn was the place he slept. But he didn't mind, after all even without him, he could hear yelling from the house, argues of his parents. Unlike there, here at barn he could be all on his own, surrounded by his curiosity and thoughts.
Like every human, the boy also wanted to be happy. So he started thinking, what is happiness? Is it money? Well the local baker, one of the wealthiest, is drowning himself in alcohol every day, and his wife and kids left him. So that might not be it... Hmm... Maybe having a lot of ladies? Simon, well known ladies man, there's not a person who's not heard of him. Many feel jealous of him, but he's not. He seems empty, lonely to me. In constant need of changing partners. So in general, pleasure, that also cannot be it, at least not for me Maybe one, very pretty princes, what if he had her? Well I mean yes, he would enjoy in her beauty, but what after that? What else? He cannot spend his life with a person, just because she's pretty, he would go insane. Many things he could pick up from others, he tried simulating days after days, even though he doesn't know what happiness is, he was sure he'll know it when he feels it.
One night, exhausted from working the whole day, boy this night just flopped down on the little hill of hay and fell asleep almost instantly.
In his dream, appeared a rose, a silver rose. The boy knew nothing about the flowers, but it was obvious to anyone that the rose is one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen. It had feeling, special aura around it, you could just tell there was something special about it. The boy then finally got an answer. What is truly happiness for him is finding a person that will make your existence in this unfair unpredictable thing called life, much easier, someone you can share both good and bad, someone who will make you "feel", it doesn't need to be forever, just long enough is good.
Since that day, like a curse, boy never forgot about that dream, never forgot that surreal rose. There was finally something that gave him meaning, something he desired. He was so obsessed with it, later in life he decided to become a botanist, hoping he'll be able to find a rose like the one from his dream.
However, no matter how much he studied, how much he researched, how many books he read. There was nowhere a single mention of it, yet alone some information. Flower like that simply didn't exist.
Once a boy, now a young man, he couldn't accept this, couldn't just brush it off, he knew there has to be one such rose, it just has to. There was no one else to ask, no more books he can read, no more research to be done, and yet, his ambition only grew stronger. If no one else knew about it, no one else saw it, then he'll be the first one to discover it, find it.
He left his garden, prepared for a long journey and ventured into the unknown. He travelled to all parts of the world, never tired, fueled only by his desire. As his trip continued, before you knew it, months maybe even a few years passed by. Once bright, energetic botanist, now decrepit and tired...
Wherever he traveled, people would burst into laughter once he tells them what he's doing, what's he searching, what's his purpose. Not only his energy, even his ambition deteriorated. Started deteriorating so much, he even slowly started to forget why he ventured in the first place. His legs kept pushing him forward, only because they kept doing so for many years before.
Lost deep in his empty thoughts, botanist, didn't even realize he went deep within a forest so dense, light was barely reaching the ground. His aimless walk and empty look, were interrupted by a ray of light blinding him. He wouldn't pay much attention to it, if he didn't notice that the light was not coming from above, from the sky, but from far inside the forest, on the ground.
Driven by this, with his last bit of strength botanist went in to investigate. What he stumbled upon was a huge thick wall of thorny poisonous vines, and clearly something shimmering behind it. Trying to see what it is, he tried approaching as close as possible.
Wait! There, I can see it now! The man was so stunned by what he has seen, his pain, his sweat, his exhaustion, everything stopped, everything forgot to exist, except for his eyes. Only his eyes had some life in it, felt vibrant.
For what he has seen beyond the wall, was a clear circle field with a healthy small grass, and in the middle of it a rose, yes, the silver rose. It was her reflecting the sun beams and blinding him before.
Like a mad Viking, he threw his backpack and started crawling into the thorny thick wall. Tearing it with bare hands, not caring about the poison, about the pain, his gaze was only focused forward, on the flower.
Hours passed by, he was so close to it, his arm was reaching the other side, but no matter how much he struggled, he couldn't get anymore past that.
His bloodied hand shaking from toxins and exhaustion reached out fingers as much as it could. The flower was now just beyond his reach. He started to come back to his senses slowly. Maybe it's time he gives up? Shouldn't he just be satisfied with this, right?
As he started to fill his mind with such thoughts, he suddenly felt something soft and warm touching his hand. He looked over and saw that the rose was slowly bending down, touching his fingers with her silver, silk like petals, almost as if trying give him comfort and reassure him. The botanist once again mustered everything he had, reached even deeper to the other side, enough so his damaged hand could wrap around the flower.
Even though he was about to pass out any second, he didn't rush it, not only that, he started hesitating. Thinking is it okay to pick up this flower, the one he was searching for his whole life, maybe the flower doesn't want to get picked up? But once again, the flower made instead of him, gave him a sign. It pulled it's thorns inside, so they wouldn't hurt botanist's hand.
He managed to pick her up, put her in his hands. The feeling he felt at that moment, cannot be described, it can only be understood by the people that also felt it before. At the very least he was so overwhelmed tears started pouring, it was the first time in his life he shed tears for a happy reason, first time his chest hurt from something good.
He took flower back to his garden, and put it in the best spot. He took another gaze at it. No doubt, it was the most beautiful, delicate thing that existed in this world. But he also faced a problem. The flower was also no doubt wild as it can get, but that was one of the reasons for her unimaginable beauty. And since the world didn't have a clue about this flower, he also felt scared can he take good care of it.
Just to make sure, botanist put his efforts to the extreme. He only watered her, by gathering fresh water every morning from a nearby mountain waterfall. Only gave her nutrients from the soil he was specially making, always putting the flower in the special spot so it can bathe in the sunlight, but never leaving her for too long.
As time passed by, months, years, botanist who was kind to all plants, being flowers or weeds, who often had to protect rose from others who meant it harm. Started to get really occupied, busy, started getting worn out. Eventually he started going every sunrise to bring water from the mountain, to water the rose, started using some cheap soil to nurture it, often would only set her by the window, and forget to put her away from the sunlight, damaging her delicate structure. Completely unaware that the weeds, he was taking care of, were slowly spreading, choking the rose.
Rose was aware of this, aware botanist is getting tired, but didn't cultivate any negative feelings towards him. She kept remembering how comfort he gave her, how kind he was to her. But alas, as rose tried her best to endure, she also started to deteriorate and wither, started dying.
Huge fear took control of botanist, not aware of what he had done, of what he has been doing. He resorted to the only thing he could think of. The last option he can try to save a flower. He returned rose to the place he found her. While he was planting her back, he started realizing how he was treating her lately, what was the problem, how much he neglected her. So, he reached out once more for the rose, but this time, rose pulled out her thorns, stabbing him. Poisonous vines started enveloping it, closing her away from the outside, from the botanist.
Just a moment later, it was almost completely closed off from the rest of the world and all botanist could do is fall on his knees and watch as it unfolds, as thick dark sphere closes off, not letting a single ray of light pass through it.
Obviously when he returned home he was devastated. People from the village with smug on their faces curious to hear what happened, started surrounding botanist asking him what happened. After he spoke, as always, people burst into laughter, laughing at him, teasing him. Telling him it's just a stupid plant, just plant another stupid flower!
For them it was only a flower, for they, only cared about themselves, addicted to fueling their body with pleasure.
But not for him, for he in pleasure only saw loneliness and emptiness, for he always persuaded something untouchable, unexplainable, only being able to feel it by heart, for him, rose was meaning of his life, his happiness, his everything.
When botanist further realized what he has done, what were the consequences of his behavior, he went back to the garden. Destroyed all plants, rooted out all "weeds" that were poisoning his mind and heart from the birth. Burned all his possessions and left the village. His purpose, his dream is now forever lost. Strangely enough, he decided to dedicate his life to becoming the best botanist in the world. He didn't had any motivation for anything yet alone for that. I mean, how could he, he lost the only thing that meant to him, only one that ever showed him how he should be treated, but nonetheless, he kept crawling somehow.
He can never undo his mistakes, no matter how much he wants. He wanted to give up on everything, convince himself maybe it's for the best. Maybe he doesn't deserve to take care of it, maybe someone better than him will come for her? He should just give up?
Reaching deep inside, inside his own heart, he tried to understand this, find an answer, accept what it is. The conclusion he reached was:
Someone better!? Don't make me laugh! I spent all those years searching for something never seen, thought to never exist, something no one even wanted to even try discover. I was the one who found her, who crawled, bleed, never gave up on her. Even if I didn't know how I should take care od her. I still did, I still tried, I tried my god damn best.
The rose would've started withering way sooner if I was only making mistakes from the start. She wouldn't hide her thorns for all this time if I was harmful to her. She wouldn't caress my grubby hands with her soothing petals if she felt discomfort around me, discomfort with how I treated her. Both her and me, we were fulfilling each other, made each other happy, for the first time both felt incomparably loved.
All my life in doubt, now more certain than ever, I know we are meant for each other. Who cares if there's someone better! My intentions are and will be more pure and noble than anyone's ever will be.
So, yes - I do deserve her, we deserve each other!
"I am aware what was, can never once again be, but no one can tell me that because of that - what can be, is not allowed ever again to be..."
The only problem is, no matter how much he deserved something, how much everything has changed, how much everything would be different. Everything will be better, confident the rose would bloom once again by his side. The rose already risked her own being, existence, waiting and hoping things would change. What guarantees does she have it wouldn't happen again!? After all she's been through lately, why would she risk herself!?
Botanist was fully aware of this, as once again a wave of grief and sadness overflow his heart, making streams down his face and making him wail like a wounded bear.
Now, years are passing, out botanist never stops developing, further perfecting himself. Even though he doesn't want to and doesn't to take care of plants, again he keeps pushing himself. He continues coming back to that place where he found rose. He still clings to that filthy thing humanity calls - "hope". Anticipating that the rose might one day show once again a glimpse of herself. That he will get another opportunity to prove himself, to feel her touch...
Once again to have a chance to take care of rose, silver rose. Shinning and pure as full moon on a clear crystal night, with soft petals, smoother than silk, that pull you into another dimension just by looking at them, dazing fragrance so strong, it could maim the strongest of beasts and that unique feeling it emanates just by being in the presence of her... Simply telling you: - she's the "one".
All he can do now is wait, wait and put all his hope that illusions like destiny and fate truly exist, after all... Didn't he manage to meet a rose, a silver rose no one ever found, thought to be only fantasy and dream of his.
All we can do now, is wait, wait and hope this story doesn't end without:
- "to be continued..."