Coffee Talk: Gardens

I started planting a garden. Not a physical one – a mental one. I’d plant a seed for each memorable moment – like our second date. These seeds were nurtured and watered through our conversations and the little things we did. Every quick kiss in passing and morning whispers were little sprinkles of water. Every cuddle session and mealtime were rays of sunlight. The more memories we created the more seeds I planted and the more there was to nurture.

Physical gardens take work and face environmental changes. My mental garden is no different. When we were quarantined together my garden was thriving off. There were so many memories, conversations, cuddle sessions, and kisses and hugs to provide my garden. I didn’t have to worry about each seed and flower getting enough love and attention. Each one was thriving, and my garden was expanding. Then I came home.

 

Slowly but surely, I’ve watched my garden wither away. I tried my best and I’m sure you did too. Unfortunately, I don’t know if it’s enough. I’m not sure if I know how to adjust to these environmental changes. It feels like I went from tending to a garden of roses that need watering daily, to a garden of succulents that only need to be watered once a week.

I know it’s not your fault – nor is it mine – that my garden has taken this turn. While we both knew that there was this inevitable change coming, I don’t think we knew just how much it would affect us. Or at least I didn’t. I couldn’t have foreseen this outcome. I mean how could I have when all I’ve known is one thing – unlimited attention.

Gardens can be saved, but I’m not sure if this one can. Things were said on both ends that can be taken back, but never completely forgotten. I know my feelings haven’t changed, but I don’t know where you stand. At this point, there’s only three ways I see it:

1.     We can try to save this garden together

2.     I can try to save it on my own

3.     I can leave this garden and plant a new one

I don’t want to be that girl who keeps fighting for something that the other person is checked out of. I’m tired of being that girl. That means option 2 is out. Option 1 doesn’t even seem viable at this point because even though I’m willing to try to salvage the remains, it doesn’t seem like you are. If I’m wrong, then by all means prove me wrong and I’ll choose option 1. However, as of right now it doesn’t feel like I’m wrong and therefore, as much as it hurts to say it, I’m going to have to choose option 3.

I just hope you can understand.