It seems as if Father Time was wrong and Mother Nature was just another woman scorned. Perhaps the recipe passed down for generations was miswritten; all I did was adhere to the rules. Step 1: smile and water your garden. Step 2: don’t over-water and let your flowers bloom over another’s.

But these leaves break off and the petals wither unapologetically. Here I am drowning in the love the world told me it needed.

But the recipe is wrong. In fact, everything I am doing is wrong. It is wrong of me to expect myself out of others, out of these flowers. They don’t care.

I fell to the grass. I went to my garden. I asked why they don’t love me and why they won’t grow in my presence. They held my hand and told me they can only grow in my absence. They told me that my love, ever growing and selfless, just showed them how they must grow. But only growth planted in a seed that is not watered by me, but watered by themselves.

What does it mean when the thing I love the most cannot be loved by me but only learn how to love from me?

I imagine the first woman to learn this was Mother Nature. When father time told her the earth doesn’t need her. Perhaps I too am a woman scorned.

Perhaps my scorned heart is speaking but I will let all of the petals in the world wither. I will let their colors turn gray as my retreating footprints turn black and white. What is kindness if it is taken for granted? No flower will love as gently as me. I will correct the mistakes of the past.

*Step 3: turn your back unapologetically when they plead to be watered by your love once again.