The Rose

“I’m so sorry,” he said, when walking into my short term sublet garden apartment in Bedstuy on a cold dark night. He held a rose in his hand, which he hesitantly extended in my direction.

I was confused. My friend, who I had only recently started a romantic relationship with, was giving me a rose on the one day during the year we had both said we despised. Only weeks before, after choosing to exclusively date each, we'd mocked the day as a "fake" expression of love. We didn’t need to express our budding, special “thing” that was happening between us through a cheesy commercialized Hallmark moment.

My brain began working overtime to process what was happening.

First of all, as stated above, we both agreed it was not a holiday to commemorate. Secondly, the relationship was very new. We had only started dating at the tail end of a year I had spent traveling the world working remotely and we'd both somehow found ourselves back in NYC for a TBD period of time that definitely felt ephemeral. Yes I'd suggested he go visit my doctor to deal with some lingering bronchitis that hasn't gone away. I'd helped him connect with my physician mostly out of a friendship that has blossomed over coincidental moments of intersection throughtou the years. But, once again, our “relationship” was still fresh. The fact that we were even dating was only because we both happened to have been in the same geography. Thirdly, what was he going to tell me? Was he going to confess some dark secret? Fourthly, a part of my brain felt that, despite us both being non-romantic, it was cute. I could deal with cute, right?. 

“I need to tell you something,” he said.

I paused, feeling a pit in my stomach. What shoe was about to drop? Did I completely miss something horrible that I was about to learn about him - some kind of secret - that would take a wrecking ball to my newly constructed life?

I froze, waiting for him to answer.

He threw himself down on the kitchen bench and looked up at me with wet, desperate eyes.

“I have cancer.

I’m just, so, so sorry.”

His continued, his words pouring out in a torrent. He talked about how it appeared it was late stage. How he didn’t know how long he might have to live. How he didn’t have any family in the city or a place to stay. How he was scared.

"And I understand if you can't deal with this and have to walk away," he said in a rush. "I will understand. Just for you to know, I was really really excited about the potential for us. I really, really like you. I mean, I think I might even love you."

I walked towards him and pulled him into my chest, holding him tightly. “You are crazy for apologizing to me. You are my friend first and foremost. And you will figure this out. I’m here. I’ve got your back. I know you will be ok. Let’s just take it one step at a time. I’m not going anywhere.”