One of my succulents didn’t bloom this year and I keep thinking about what I did wrong. Not about how the fickle weather, being migrated to a new pot with 6 other plants, or its life cycle effect the likelihood of a bloom.
But it was so close I could have just yanked the closed flower bud out of it and spread it butterfly with tweezers.
Alas, it was not meant to be.
I watered it on schedule, even a little less than necessary, to make sure I didn’t rot the roots.
I know nature does it own thing but it hard when you want something so much and you put so much mental energy into it and visualize what it’ll look like when it blooms, and how happy it will make you feel and taking pics and showing literally everyone you know like its your kid.
It is. They all are. Including the aloe in the kitchen. They are all the life I have in my apartment besides me. They are my best friends and they always have my back.
It isn’t about them. It’s about me.