He asked her why she loved plants, and she paused for a moment seeming to ponder her random outburst of thoughts that came out to be a question.

They make me happy she started,” tilting her head to the side like she always does when she is really thinking about something for the first time.

He squeezed his face in thought for a second before shaking his head, a smile beginning to peak through his lips as he shook his head.

She must have read my expression because she immediately said “Stop,” shoving your shoulder lightly. “You wouldn’t get it, but it is something to nurture and that calms me down.”

“Ah, okay.” he said softly as he began to understand the reasoning behind her love.

It was because they grow, I thought. Something she could be meticulous about and nurture. She needed to share her love, and how satisfying it must have been for her to watch something that started off so small grow into something that she helped it become.

Why don’t you like plants?” She asked him sarcastically interrupting his thoughts.

He laughed, “it’s not that I don’t like them,” he
started. “It’s just that I don’t love them like you do.”

That’s fair she said,” nodding her head gently seeming to understand.

We were both quite after that, letting the silence sit between us.

But he had a question that he never got around to asking, not that the time wasn’t right but sometimes not everything needs to be spoken.

But still;

He wondered if humans had simply disappointed her too many times to earn her trust. Did she love plants so much because she could actually control their outcome? Was it easier to pour into something that would never refuse her support?

But maybe he was overthinking it all, trying to find meaning in things that were simply ordinary; or maybe he wasn’t.