Our Plant
Every love story somehow seems to start the same. . .We picked a seed that we liked and decided to plant it. At first, we’d both water it. Sometimes he would water it more than I would. But eventually, he would forget about that seed; so that left me to nurture it alone. Though, I began to grow tired of being the only one who seemed to care about our little sprouting plant that’s beginning to die from lack of love and nutrients. I told him, actually yelled at him, to help with me with our plant. He said he would so I went to bed a awoken the next day. I went on about my day smiling because I just knew our plant would be flourishing when it was my turn to water it tomorrow. But alast, I was wrong. My plant, our plant, was dying.. to a point where it can not be saved. He didn’t water our plant. How could he? No matter how much I yelled and screamed at him for ruining something I believed we had both cherished so near and dear to our hearts, he didn’t seem to care. I reached to grab his