Flowers were always my favorite metaphor for love

Sometimes they are planted; sometimes they sprout out of nowhere.
Watered and they flourish.
Ignored and they wither.
But I can’t deny that as it grows I embrace its beauty.
Admiring the petals.
Void of flaws.

See that’s the thing.
Every flower is beautiful.
They don’t compete with the surrounding flowers.
They just bloom.
But eventually you get accustomed to the beauty.
It seems common and mundane to you.
But to an average passerby it’s stunning.
We think nothing special of it.

When we see a beautiful flower we pick it.
And it dies.
And it ceases to be what we admired.
So if you see a flower let it be.
Appreciation over possession.

But how foolish of me to think I was the sole flower in your life.
You had a garden.
From roses to tulips.

But.
We need to let go.
Don’t water a dead flower.
It won’t grow back.

Even if it was your favorite.