Morning Dew;;

Here you are, again. In the middle of everything. In the middle of what you call your ‘everything’.

Who am I to you anyway? I’m no one. I’m just someone who managed to like you. Someone who managed to see the beauty in your soul out of all the other souls in this sea of people. I am just that someone who found you in the middle of everything. I am just someone who exhibits feelings for you. Nothing else.

Who are you to me?

… Who are you to me?

You changed me. When I found you, I didn’t know what to do exactly. I mean sure, I didn’t notice your good features right away, but that’s the thing, see - the more and more you spend time with someone, you slowly notice everything about them. And I did notice some flaws: maybe a broken wing here, chipped paint over there, maybe even a flaw in how your system works - but regardless, I still liked you. I still loved you. I still love you.

Why am I letting myself be pulled down by you? Why? You don’t really love me. I know that. Even if I managed to get you for myself, even if I sacrificed a lot just to get you to be mine, even if I finally managed to make you mine, that we were together… You never really loved me.

Now, that just makes me sound like a bitch, ain’t it? Assuming all over the place, saying that ‘you don’t love me’; I’m pretty sure you’ll say you did. In your understanding of love, you did love me.

But for me, that wasn’t love.

Why’s that? Well, you had suppressed feelings. After our separation, that managed to resurface - AND STAY. The mere fact that it stayed means that you took care of those feelings.

Imagine there are two plants. There’s this one that you’ve had for so long: you water it, fertilize it with whatever you may have there, and just take care of it. But after a while, you somehow put it aside. It doesn’t seem as beautiful like it was before. It doesn’t respond as much to your love as it did before. That’s why you put it aside. And you managed to hide it from your sight - all of it that remains was a memory in your mind.

Then after some time, there’s this other plant - that’s me - and it managed to catch your attention. Only for a little bit. The one selling the plant saw that you looked at it, and rushed to where you are, holding the plant. The seller said a lot of things - ‘here, buy it now and you get this free thingamajig!’ ‘no please, I’ll lower the price. I’ll lower it half-way!’ ‘You’ll even get this brand-new fertilizer! It makes the plant grow strong and beautiful!’ - and after much persuasion, you finally buy it. So now you have this plant, this somehow pretty plant that you got for half its worth. You put it in display for everyone to see - and they commended your plant. They also said it was pretty, ‘nice to see you got a new plant’, and all those other things people say about people and their plants.

After taking care of it for a while, you notice that it just stays the same, even after you fertilize it, beautify it for all its worth. It never changes. It still looks like the same plant you bought months ago - a few chipped leaves here and there, some fell off, some grew, but it’s still the same. The same ol’e plant. Nothing changed.

You lose interest.

But why would you throw away such a beautiful plant? It still got life in it. Who knows, maybe it’ll start to grow more and more as the days pass by.

So you keep it, but only for the thought that this shouldn’t be thrown away just willy-nilly.

Days passed, months passed… You continue taking care of the plant. Eventually you grew tired. Weeds grew around it, lots of bugs have already tried to munch it down into nothing - it was tiresome for you. You had other things to deal with, and this plant - this nothing of a plant - still managed to make you take care of it regardless of all those things.

You want to end it all.

So you throw it away.

The plant, now with its pot broken, lay lifeless on the garden’s bed of soil. Who knows if it will grow back. Is that a coping mechanism for plants who got thrown away from their pots? We don’t know. We don’t care. You don’t care.

You go back to your house, and something catches your eye. It’s the plant from before! The one you took care of so much, the one who responded to your actions; you put it back on its rightful place, out there where the sun can reach its leaves and nourish it. You take care of it using the things you got from months back, and it grows - slowly, but hey, that’s better than nothing - and you feel satisfied and relieved you have this. A sense of contentment fills your heart, and you can’t help but smile.

A month passed and you remember the plant you threw away. Weird as a person you may be, you go to the garden where you threw it away to check up on it.

It grew. It managed to survive.

And it… changed. Just for a bit. But it changed. It looks stronger than before, or it seemed like it.

You go to the plant, checking all the parts needed to be checked - it’s growing healthily. At the back of your mind, you think, “maybe I could bring this plant back home with me—” that’s where you stop yourself.

Remember what you told your friends? You said you didn’t want to get that plant back anymore. You said it’d be better if it grew somewhere else and not in your garden. You don’t really know much about taking care of plants, other than that you need to water them, sometimes put some fertilizer in their soil, let them out in the sun, and all that stuff. You don’t know what kind of fertilizer is exactly needed, what nutrients it’s supposed to get when you water them, or the number of hours the plant needs until it starts getting too much sun. You don’t know those things. Not yet, anyway.

You stare at the plant. And then, you look around. No one else is here. How did this manage to grow on by itself? No one is taking care of it.

You decided that you wanted to take care of the plant, even if it was far away from your home, and even if it wasn’t really yours anymore.

A few days pass with that going on. Both plants seem to respond well to your actions. They both look healthy, and if they had faces, smiles would be plastered onto them.

But of course, who wouldn’t get tired of walking from their home to the garden just to take care of a measly plant? Maybe there’s the town gardener here, and that person’s in charge of taking care of the plants here. You think to yourself, “I don’t want to take away that person’s job. I have to stop,” and so you think.

You take one last look at the plant that’s been with you for who knows how long - one last look of its quaint features. You take one last look on how it changed, and even though you feel kind of sad that you weren’t the reason why it changed - or that it changed only after you threw it away - you still feel sort of happy.

One last look before you go.

You take a picture of it in your brain - you don’t even know if this will be a reliable way of remembering it - and you turn around and start to walk away.

The plant just stays there, planted to the ground. The sun shines on its leaves, and on it, dew starts forming.

It’s morning.