the day i turned 30, i sent a txt message to the guy i had been seeing (who I thought I had ended things with a few days before but clearly I thought wrong) and told him things had just gotten too complicated and we just needed to go our separate ways. He responded with "are you serious?" Now I had to pause for a minute. It was my birthday. Who wants to be single on their birthday? Since I was the one doing the dumping, and while I will admit that I think punk'd is hilarious, I would never be creative enough to punk someone else, I think it was safe to say that I was serious. So I said "yes." He wrote back "I guess you don't want the rose I had gotten to leave on your doorstep then, huh?" Again, I had to pause. Now granted, I had told him I thought he didn't make me a priority (6 dates in two months is not a sign of proper prioritization). I had told him I thought he wasn't very sweet (and generally speaking, flowers are sweet). And let's not even talk about the txt message I accidentally sent him that was meant for my friend Allison that said "exclusive is no longer an option until he gets his act together. I have plans with John for Sunday." Whoops. So yes, I would say I didn't need - or want really - the rose he had gotten me to leave on my doorstep.
And then I got home and per the picture below, found a single, solitary rose laying in my door.
Besides, where were the other 11? Was he going to jump out of the bushes with the rest of them and sing me happy birthday? If he had, that might have made it slightly less creepy to stumble upon a single, solitary rose with no owner laid upon my doorstep at 10p at night.