you're not really a symbolism person. you've always thought that names are just labels, just sounds used to identify each other. it'd be silly to angst over having the wrong one.
you're not really a symbolism person, and yet, it bothers you. maybe it's not the name. you know that a rose doesn't have to be sweet, a rose doesn't have to be thorny, a rose doesn't have to be poetic. you know sometimes a rose is just a person with a name.
(does it really have to be your name, though?)
you don't think about it. maybe in another world, when your parents are yelling at each other and the air between them is so thick with hurt you think that if you stood between them the sheer force of all that fury might be real enough to concuss you... well, maybe in that world you tuck yourself away in a cobwebbed corner of the attic and you write poetry as darkly dramatic as the knot in your chest feels.
in this world, you tiptoe upstairs to check that your little brother is safely asleep. in your softly lit room, you curl up with a book. your armchair creaks gently when you move, the pages make a small sighing sound when you turn them, and outside your door a storm rages.
maybe in another world you're too tense to go to bed. maybe in another world you're hiding under your covers. in this world, you're just sitting there reading, just a few more pages... just a few more words... and you wake up stiff and slouched across a chair the next morning. the bitter sunlight warms your face anyway. you can hear people moving around downstairs. that one's probably dad, shuffling around making breakfast in his giant dopey rabbit slippers. those slippers make a pretty distinctive sound. that click-click-click is probably mum's red heels. you can't really tell which pair of heels they are from the sound, but you picture the red ones anyway, because you like the way they look against the green kitchen tiles. you can maybe just barely hear them giggling and whispering stupid lovey things.
RO-O-O-O-SE! GET DOWN HERE, WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!
okay, that one you can definitely hear. coming, you yell back, and hurry to dress. rose is coming, rose is you, rose is happy. storms blow over, right? and storms are a stupid metaphor, anyway. people aren't clouds. you're just a family.
it all feels so different in sunlight. you're a family! there's a mum, and a dad, and a hugo, and a rose. you're a rose. you're rose.