It had been almost two months since she died.
Misty still cried herself to sleep every night, she still talked to Cordelia in her room as if she were there, she still prayed that the woman she loved would come back somehow.
Even though she still did all of these things, she knew that Cordelia wouldn't come back, She had killed herself.
She had been lowered into the cold ground, her body had already turned to dust in her mahogany casket.
But still, Misty hoped and prayed.
She still searched everywhere for pictures of the deceased woman, even though she knew the memory of her beautiful Cordelia would never fade from her mind for as long as she lived.
All of the girls had shut her out, they wanted to be positive about life; she understood.
But her knowledge still didn't make it hurt any less.
The one thing that could bring a smile on Misty Day's face was when she looked at her roses.
The roses Cordelia had given her before she took her own life, the roses that never withered, just as Cordelia had promised.
She kept that promise; to keep the roses living for Misty even though she couldn't live herself.
Misty cried when she looked at the roses, she cried when she thought of Cordelia, she cried when she heard Stevie, she cried when it rained, and she cried when she heard Lana.
She shed tears where her lover had shed blood.
She felt pain where her lover ended it.
She wanted her lover where that very woman had tried to protect the one she loved from herself.
Naive Misty Day fell in love with worthless Cordelia Foxx and now that Misty was no longer Naive she knew that Cordelia had never been worthless.
And on this Cold December night, Misty walks into her dank room that once was filled with joyous things and she looks at the roses.
She looks at the roses and sees that they aren't withering away.
She looks at the roses and remembers Cordelia's promise.
She looks at the roses and realizes that they are symbolic of herself.
She looks at the roses that haven't withered away; and she finally understands what Cordelia wants.
She looks at the roses and then back at herself.
Her lover doesn't want her to wither away.
The way that she had.