DO NOT PLANT A GARDEN AND NOT EXPECT IT TO GROW

Dear the LOVE of my LIFE,

( i miss you)

Do you remember my art project? With the flowers growing out of the lungs? Inspired by the quote “ you made flowers grow in my lungs and although they are beautiful, I cannot breathe.”

Do you remember meeting in the spring? Talking big ideas, about big places. You wanted do it with me. You planted those seeds inside me. The closer we got, the more they began to grow. These adventures, these ideas, these hopes of us made me feel alive. These beautiful flowers came of our beautiful love. All the colors of the rainbow seemed to flourish in this garden, as if we had a pot of gold waiting for us. This was the beginning of everything.

Do you remember the summer? How you watered my flowers? The more you cared, the more you told me you loved me, the more vibrant and beautiful and lively they became.

Do you remember the fall?  The air became brittle and cold. Things got busy. It became hard to give all that same attention and care to these flowers. So they began to wither; they began to grow thorns. My chest was too small to hold them.

The thorns scratched my lungs, the roots suffocated my heart. You didn’t want to take care of something that was dying and no matter how much I cried, my tears couldn’t water them.

The only way that I could survive was to uproot them. And it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I had to cut and rip myself free from the havoc we created. I screamed and I cried.

But I could breathe. Yet each inhale stung, the process of healing without you. I still wish you were here. I pressed our flowers in a book.

My heart is beginning to heal to its own rhythm. My lungs fully expand. But I feel empty without these flowers. My sadness echoes deep down inside.

Spring has come back around. So have your apologies.

You came with seeds in hand and gloves in your pocket. You promised to plant a better garden, to always tend to it.

But it is time for me to tend to the garden. I am strong enough to make it through the winter. I will bloom with or without you.

But my questions is, will you?

Love, your SOULMATE