A relationship is like a plant. Meeting someone is the planting of a seed. When both people care for it, it grows fast. Each day brings a new leaf, a pleasant surprise.

Over time, a good relationship will grow from a delicate sapling into a tree. The tree feels sturdy, like it has always been and always will be there. You stop noticing its growth because it becomes part of the landscape, quiet and steady.

If you breakup, it doesn’t kill the tree outright. It stops feeding it. For awhile, the tree looks the same. You know what it’s like to look in her eyes, to hear her laugh, you know her wants and dreams.

But without the nurturing it needs, the tree will start to wither. You stop hearing what happens in her day and the little things fade from memory.

You’ll start watering other plants, but the old tree will still cast a shadow.  You'll unfairly compare your new small plants to it. Its presence continues in your garden, not because it’s still growing, but because the things we once tended never fully leave us.

Nurture is finite. You only have so much water. You can’t grow plants with everyone. So if you really care, you let her grow new ones and hope they grow even bigger than the one you shared. The paradox of love is letting go not because you’ve stopped caring, but because you still do.