I was the plant in your vast apartment. You gave me water and left me in the sunlight to grow. You did everything you could. You helped me prosper.

Eventually you grew out of your apartment and you no longer wanted mere plants to keep you company.

I watched you pack your boxes full of pictures and birthday cards and gifts and love. You continued to pack as the world grew colder and the sunlight began to shrink. Eventually my *** cracked and you couldn't notice because you were invested in things much more important than a simple plant.

In the middle of January you finally left and the blinds were closed and the sun was shut out. You wisely decided a dead plant with a broken *** wasn't worth the time, nor the space in your new apartment.

So now I'm sitting in the middle of your old apartment floor, still waiting for water and a glimpse of sunlight that everybody realizes couldn't resurrect me.