Poor Rose

My friend knew how bad I felt.
“He forgot again. Do you think he does it on purpose? Just went to work like any other day.”
“Men forget their anniversaries all the time. Why should he be different?”
“Because I’m different. The smallest things make me happy. You’d think he just even go buy one, red rose. It would say so much. Mean lots. Is that so hard to do?!”
“Cheers! Drink up. You know he loves you.”
I called my friend the same night.
“He got me a lousy, red rose. You’d think he could've done better than that.”