What I wanted to say on Saturday as we sat on the park bench, chatting idly about the way crocuses grow, was I don’t know when we started to pretend the cup was still full, how we didn’t notice the train jumping the tracks, if going back was still an option.
And I thought then, as we discussed the profuse bloom of the crocuses in June, how very strange it was for a flower to need the dark chill of winter just as much as the sun. And even though you laughed, I thought maybe, if we mixed the good with the bad, we’d have a chance to grow.