I feel guilty just typing this.
I’ve left my garden. Not wholly. We still see each other now and then, on the weekends.
But it has been kind of awkward since I moved out. I show up to water the plants and collect the ripened vegetables.
To put it plainly, the garden has just let itself go. It isn’t as attractive as it once was. All the new tomatoes are too heavy for the supports and the pumpkin vines are growing without regard for the other plants’ personal space. I know this doesn’t excuse me for leaving. If I’m honest with myself I can admit I played a role in the garden’s deterioration.
I know the garden needs me and I want to be there for it. On one hand, I’d like for things to be like they were in the beginning. I was so nurturing and selfless. On the other hand, I live somewhere new now and my priorities are different. I’m now getting things my garden could never provide.
I still want the benefits of the garden though. I’m not ready to let that go just yet. Until I am, I’ll keep sweet talking my babies on the weekends.