I’m waiting for these orchids to bloom. At first I was skeptical because I don’t have good experience with keeping plants alive. I got into plants only a year ago, when I first bought this one.

I bought them when we were talking and we first met. You were helping me with things. I stayed and let you teach me.

The flowers were white. I made sure to spend a lot of time at the grocery where they sold them, studying which had healthy roots, the most potential for blooms.

When I brought them home they were beautiful. Three lush branches of orchids that looked like the centrepiece of a wedding. They lit up my small room and I had great pleasure in looking at them every day.

They lasted a long time, like I said. Each one faded slowly over time. I knew it was coming but I couldn’t help but be sad. I had little faith I could keep them alive until their next bloom.

I don’t seem to know how to keep the good things. I think it’s my fault I get too restless, I need variety, I’m trying to find a lost paradise and the excessive attention I received as a child. I know it doesn’t exist anywhere outside of me. I know I need to hibernate in the boredom and wake up new on the other side.

You held on for a long time but your faith that I would love you back faded steadily too.

I tried something different this summer. I put the flowerless plant on the porch all summer, letting it rest in the heat and shade and humidity. It grew three times its size. Now it’s growing little green bulbs. They look promising.

As I write this, Bruno Mars is saying I hope he buys you flowers. This small gesture of steadiness from my orchids fills me with a hope I can’t describe.

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