Diary of a Plant

I should have seen this one coming. She hardly ever remembers to water me. She has 2 four legged furry creatures that she only remembers to feed and water because they stamp their paws next to their food bowls.

This was the fourth winter that I failed to provide the coveted red Christmas flower.
I spent my early life in a windowless office. Even though it was windowless, it was homey, and I kept my lone red blossom. Then when she moved offices, she took me home. She repotted me. She gave me new soil. She was faithful and watered me. But I couldn’t hang onto that one red flower.

But I could tell she thought that was okay. It was summer, and I don’t bloom in summer.

Then came the first Christmas, and I didn’t blossom.

She was sad. But she didn’t say anything. I could tell, though, by the way she checked each of my stems that she was dissapointed. She trimmed me up, dusted me, cleaned up my dead leaves.

Then came the second Christmas.

The waterings became few and far between. I was in a home office, her home office, next to her computer where she could always see me.

Then I started getting drier and drier.

Then she moved me to the table behind her, and I was no longer in her line of sight.

Then came Christmas number three. She almost gave up on me. She thought about putting me into hibernation, to see if that would work.

This was Christmas number four. I haven’t been watered since then, I do’nt think. She stops and looks at me now and again, like she’s debating about it. Maybe this is hibernation. Maybe she’s forgotton. Maybe she is mad.

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