Love the Color Red

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic


Roscoe Barnes tells us his life story. He describes the day he met his lovely wife, and all of his life. He realizes what he values and lives a long life.

Submitted: September 05, 2018

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Submitted: September 05, 2018

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Love the Color Red

When I was young boy my favorite color was blue. When someone would ask what it was I would always reply with blue. I felt that it was a beautiful color that reminded me of the sea and sky. If you ask me what my favorite color is today, my answer won't be blue as expected, but red. As it will be forever.

I was just a regular self absorbed schoolboy in the eighth grade, if I remember correctly. I cared for no one but myself. I never once thought of marrying or having children of my own. I never wanted to be tied down to someone, or to care for another. I wanted to travel the world, meet new people, and see a variety of interesting things. That is, until the day she walked into my classroom.

Her name was Rosa Rosso. She had chin length, bright red hair. She wore a flowing red skirt with a red scarf to match. She held a small, fragile rose in her small, fragile hand. She had on a tight, blue blouse that matched her eyes exactly. When she walked, her small feet clicked in her small, white heels. She was pale with the most beautiful features, A small, upturned nose, big, bright blue eyes, small, pointed lips that were stained red. She was the first, and only person who had ever made me stop and stare. To the other boys she was just another girl, and held no interest for her. I on the other hand, could not say the same. I was speechless. She looked as if she came right from heaven. She made my heart stop.

Our professor, Mr. Maine, asked her to introduce herself. “H-h-ello, my name is Rossa Rosso.” She was so nervous. “ I Just moved here from Italy.” Even though she was frightened, she had the most beautiful songlike voice. Quiet, but like an angel’s. “Your name sounds as if it means something beautiful in English, would you translate it for us Miss Rosso?” Asked Mr. Maine “ Yes Professor.” she said quietly. “Rossa Rosso in English would be Rose Red.” That was the moment that red became my favorite color and roses my favorite flower.

That day my eyes never wondered from her. I tried to stop staring, but I couldn’t. I was afraid if I did she would disappear and I would find out it was all a dream. When the bell rang, signaling for us to go outside for our lunch break, my eyes followed her as she walked out. She was standing alone on the hill in our school yard and held her scarf into the wind to let it flow behind her. She looked like an angelic ballet dancer. Then at the bottom of the hill stood a rosebush in full bloom. I don’t know what made me do it, but I am grateful for whatever it was. I walked down to the bottom of the hill and picked the most beautiful, fragile, red rose I could find. I brought it to her and introduced myself. “ Umm, hello, my name is Roscoe Barnes, and I saw this and it reminded me of you.” As I handed it to her the wind picked up and blew the petals off of the rose. She made my heart stop for the second time that day. With the wind blowing her scarf and the rose petals behind her, her angelic ballet dancer appearance, and the color of her outfit, in front of a beautiful blue sky filled with white clouds. I knew I was in love. And that image of her standing on that hill would forever be on my mind.

Over the next few weeks, we began talking and getting to know one another. She became my best friend. She washed away all of my foolish thoughts of never wanting to get married or have children. I wanted to be tied down to her. I wanted to kiss her goodnight and goodmorning. I wanted to see her face every single day. I, Roscoe Barnes was deeply in love with my eternal best friend, Rossa Rosso.

Two years later, in the tenth grade, we started going on picnics and holding hands. I was officially out of the friendzone. We would take walks, and we even introduced ourselves to each other's parents. Several times we went dancing, and one lucky night, after we danced for hours, I got to kiss her just before she told me one of the most wonderful things she had ever said to me. “Roscoe”, she said, “I love you. I have since the day I met you.” I couldn’t contain my excitement! “Rossa darling, I love you too.” And I kissed her again.

From that night on I would take her out to watch movies and go on long walks. Her parents respected me, and my parents adored her. We were a match made in heaven. We confided everything to each other. There was no such thing as a secret anymore. Our relationship stayed like that until we graduated, then I got the courage, and permission, to pop her the question. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a beautiful, warm, but breezy day. The roses were all in full bloom and I had told her that I had a surprise waiting for her on the school grounds. When she arrived at exactly 9 p.m., I held her hand and took her to the top of the hill , and handed her a rose. The wind picked up and blew the petals off. I had made sure that she wore the same red scarf, blue blouse, red skirt, and white heels that I met her in. Her red scarf and the rose petals blew out behind her, creating the exact picture that had been replaying in my head for the last three and a half years. My heart still stops everytime it pops in my head. She looks exactly the same as the day I met her. I knelt down on one knee and pulled out a small red box and said, “Rosa, I have only known you for Three years, six months, and sixteen days, but it feels like I have loved you forever. My heart stops everytime I see you, and I keep waiting to wake up and find out this was all a dream, but I don’t, and I never will, because you are real, we are real, we are living the dream, and we never have to wake up. Before I met you, I never wanted to be tied down, or to have to worry about someone. I never wanted kids, or to come home to a home and a wife. I never wanted any of that till the moment I laid eyes on you. I want to come home everyday and have you in our house with our children. I want to kiss you goodmorning, and goodnight. I want to wake up everyday with you. So Rossa Rosso, my beautiful red rose, will you marry me?” She started crying and gave me the biggest smile I have ever seen. She gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, “Yes.” Two months later she walked down the aisle and made me the happiest man alive. I took her on a honeymoon to her hometown in Italy. She introduced me to her extended family, and we stayed for over a month. A week after we got home I bought us a nice cozy little cottage where they tore down our old school house. We go and sit on our hill, which is now in our backyard, daily. Nine months later she gave me our first child, Randalynn Rosso-Barnes. She was the most beautiful baby I could have ever dreamed of. She had her momma’s eyes and hair, and her daddy’s ambition. When Randalynn was two she got a baby brother, Ryan Rosso-Barnes. She loved him more than anything. He had my brown hair and brawny build, and his mom’s quiet nature and angelic features. Then Six years after Ryan was born, our fairytale life took an unexpected turn for the worst. My sweetheart, the love of my life, my match made in heaven, was sick. She was diagnosed with brain cancer. We were told we had maybe, if we were lucky, nine more months with her. Randalynn and Ryan were still to young to understand that they would soon be without a mother. They made Rossa get well soon cards, and asked if she could cook dinner because daddy wasn’t very good at it. They brought her roses from our rose bush and tried to get her to play with them. How was I supposed to tell them that their mom would never cook dinner again, that she wouldn’t be getting better, and she was not going to be able to play with them anymore. How are you supposed to tell them they would no longer have a mother, and just like the roses by her bedside, she will die too, but I will never be able to replace her like I do the roses. I did the best I could to deal with the situation life dealt me, but anyone could see that the closer to the end Rossa came, the more light left my eyes. How was I going to look at the children that remind me so much of her everyday without falling apart? How was I supposed to get out of bed when I know she won’t be waking up next to me? Rossa’s last day was the hardest day of my life. I had to say goodbye to the only woman I had ever loved. I was now a widower, and had two motherless children who deserve more than this. I held her hand as she took her last breaths and painted the image of her standing on the hill with the wind swirling around her in my mind. She still looks exactly the same as the day I met her. Beautiful and peaceful. When I no longer herd the steady beep of the heart monitor, I broke down and cried. The love of my life had left me. Even though I was completely broken and dead inside, I still got up every morning and got my children ready for school. I went to work, got home and tried my best to make a decent dinner and when the children were in bed I cried myself to sleep. My children knew I missed her, so we never brought her up. We never really bonded as a family after Rossa’s death, She was the glue that held our family together. Several years went past, and Randalynn brought home her first boyfriend. His name was Angelo Mancante. He was from Italy, and his name ment missing angel. Randalynn dated him for about two years before they got engaged. They got married two months later and my precious daughter became Mrs. Randalynn Rosso-Barnes Mancante, and finally got the life she had always deserved. Two weeks after Randalynn’s wedding, Ryan introduced me to his girlfriend, Stella Luminosa, also from Italy. Her name meant, Star bright. They dated for a year then got married. He was so excited all he ever talked about was Stella. He was defiantly in love with that girl, and I was happy that my son had found his happily ever after as well. Randalynn then had her first baby which they named, Rose, after her deceased mother. My granddaughter even looked like my wife. She was a beautiful baby. She had had bright red hair, tiny little features, and the bluest eyes. That same year Ryan and Stella had their first baby, a boy named Ross, after me, he had brown hair with a hint of red, he was a big baby, but he had tiny angelic features. I finally realized that I needed my children and grandchildren more than anything, so I made an enormous effort to bond with them. I gave them the best life I could. I hope they can forgive me if not now, then later, for not being a better father. I love them with the every broken, aching piece of my heart. After many long years, my family bonds grew stronger and our family tree grew larger. My entire family loves the color red. How can they not? Loving the color red is like loving the mom, grandma, great-grandma, and great- great- grandma they never got to know. Red is still my favorite color, and it will stay that way forever. Now I am eighty-nine years old, and have had sixty-two years to remarry, but I never did. I have only one true love, and she could never be replaced. Now I have eight grandchildren, fifteen great-grandchildren, and 24 great- great- grandchildren. I love them all so much. I want to thank everyone who was and is apart of my life. You don’t know the impact you’ve made. It’s about time for me to reunite with my long lost wife, the love of my life, my match made in heaven, Rossa Rosso. So thank you for reading the story of my life. - Roscoe Barnes


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