Dear My House Plants,
I am so sorry. I do not even know if there is anything that I can say to make things between us okay. I apparently have no idea how to care for you on the most basic level.
Your friend, the succulent, has died. It is completely my fault. I must bear complete responsibility for this. I just thought that since he had such fat leaves he needed more water. I thought that if I was from a desert, I would crave water like how I crave candy and salt here in Chicago. I thought he would really like it. I was so wrong.
Then there was the roundie leaf, woody stemmed favorite. I still have no idea what I did wrong. Too much water, not enough, too much sun? He died too. His death represents my failure to take care of living things, literally.
And innocent begonia; she never hurt anyone. All she did was try to live her life in a nice little pot. She is on her way out, all falling over herself, drooping, looking watery. What should I do? She is a gonner. I am a murderer. I cannot stop myself. But it is not on purpose. It’s not even neglect. It is just routine now. For the love of God, I need help. Someone, please help me!
The green leafy guys are my buddies. You guys know what’s up. You wilt, I water you, you perk up, we move on together. You communicate your needs and I respond with, well, mainly water. We are together and seem to understand each other well. I am thankful for you guys. You are the reason I keep trying. You should tell your tropical and desert cousins to try to work on their communication. Not that I am blaming them. It really was all me.
I may have never had a green thumb,