Emily, you tanned beautiful rose lover you. My dear Emily was a few years older than me and that really made all the difference. In my eyes, she was on the highest pedestal and could do no wrong. I met her on a foreign island and she danced among the coconuts as if they were clouds and sipped the local rum as if it was nectar. She took a shine to me instantly and in many ways made me her protégé. I stood out amongst all of her minions as a clear favourite. I had of course interpreted this as romantic so I bought her the most beautiful climbing roses I could find on the island and left it on her pillow with a note expressing my admiration and lust for her. Emily did not feel the same. I was crushed. It was as if she had swooped from the pedestal and stabbed me with fiery daggers.

I couldn’t recover. Of course, she was completely angelic about the whole thing and apologised incessantly for giving me the wrong impression. Oh Emily, why didn’t you let me hate you. She said it was the finest hybrid tea roses she had ever seen. Turns out she loves roses but had been unable to find them on the island. I showed her where I bought them from online and said I would happily pick some up for her.  I would gladly give her all the roses on the entire island for just one kiss. She politely and perfectly said she wouldn’t want to give me a kiss and exacerbate my feelings because she knows she will never feel the same. God the pain, the pain was tangible. She told me her heart belonged to someone else. Someone else that she is currently engaged to. She said it would be unfair of her to pretend that she had the space to love someone else because she knows that no amount of roses would change her feelings.