Dear Plants, Flowers and Other Greenery,
I am writing this letter to clarify why I repeatedly purchase you and subsequently kill you. I want you to know that these are not, in fact, my actual intentions. I love plants and flowers and greenery of most kinds. However, as I was watering my wilted basil plant this morning, my eyes fell to the dried-up, dehydrated and dead mint plant I had purchased only a month ago, and I realized that you probably think this is purposeful.
I cannot even begin to fathom the horror you feel when I walk through your section of the store. I’m sure you’ve heard the legend about my herbicidal mania and the excitement I feel when I am able to torture and kill plants of every variety. I can almost hear the quiet hush that settles over you as I walk the aisles, carefully choosing my next victim. You know what will happen if I pick you, so I’m sure you do your best to look partially wilted or eaten up by bugs. When I choose my next victim, the rest of you probably sigh in a mixture of relief that you weren’t picked and horror for whoever was. You know the fate of the plant in my hands, and it isn’t pretty.
The above paragraph is a story which many of you probably believe. I want to dispel that myth if at all possible. Yes, I do repeatedly purchase plants, and those plants do end up dehydrated or over-watered or sunburned or eaten up by a variety of bugs. However, none of this in intentional. I actually do make an attempt to keep every plant I purchase alive for as long as possible.
I know the fact that I keep doing the same thing repeatedly probably makes it seem as if I am covering up my nefarious intentions. The fact that I managed to kill an aloe plant, bring it back to life, and kill it again probably compounds the struggle you may face in trusting me. But, I assure you, no harm done to any plant in my hands was purposeful.
Yes, removing an aloe plant from the soil in which it lived and placing its roots in a jar of water for two months may have seemed akin to the torture used to exact information from insurgents, but I promise I was just trying to revive it. And, yes, placing a shade begonia on my balcony in Texas in the middle of July for days without water or any human contact probably appears to be the act of a crazed sadist, but I simply forgot about the plant entirely. I wasn’t intentionally causing it harm; it was merely neglect.
That is what many of the plant deaths boils down to, Plants, Flowers and Other Greenery. You are different than a dog or a cat who will bark at, sniff or claw the heck out of me if I don’t feed them. You aren’t like a car with a Check Engine light or even like a shoelace which, when untied, will annoy me by flopping about until I tend to it. You are silent and passive, waiting for me to remember to water you and give you appropriate amounts of sunlight, which is something I simply have a hard time doing.
This is no fault of your own. You are just being true to your planthood. I do take sole responsibility for every plant whose life my irresponsibility has claimed. But, I just want to know that these deaths have not occurred because of a sick a twisted mind; they are simply the result of a girl who forgot them in their quiet ways.
Please don’t paint me as a sadist to your friends and children. A poor soul who can’t seem to learn that she can’t keep plants alive, perhaps, but not one who enjoys the torture and death of greenery.