Desert Cactus and Ivory Tower Rose

"My cactus, which is covered with thorns, and her rose, which needs careful care, once thought that I could keep warm by hugging tightly. It wasn't until the scorching sun of reality hit that I discovered that the thorns I used to protect myself had already penetrated deeply into her flesh and blood." We agreed to meet again at the age of thirty-five, but time is ruthless. Can I still wait until that day? And has she already bloomed elsewhere?