Dear You,
If I were to be other than human, I would be a flower. Flowers are so elegant and beautiful. And then they wilt when their time has come or they're not given proper attention and concern. (I hate receiving flowers though)
The thought is fixed in my mind. Is this the year that I finally wilt and die? I hope only to rise and be given new life. Is this the year that I finally stop seeking the concern that you aren't willing to give? I will only feel like the abandoned pot of once beautiful flowers that you used to admire or so I thought. Did you give me anything at all for me to grow? Or was I just something short-term?
I have a lot of questions in my head but I don't want to ask anymore. I probably know the answers already, I'm just not ready to accept it.
Let me grow. Let me go.
Janine
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