They say you find him once you stop looking, and I finally know what they mean. There I was, traipsing through Home Depot like any other Saturday afternoon, when I saw him. I knew immediately I had to have him. Since that day, Nicolas* has blessed me with the kind of love you can’t read about in books nor see in films, for no one writes about the relationship of a girl and her plant.
Here are just a few things I love about Nicolas. If I had a balcony I would proclaim my love from above, but for now, let this keyboard be the ledge over which I shout.
He’s always waiting for me by the bed when I come home. The fuzz on his leaves glistens in the sunlight as he tries to catch my eye, but there’s no need, for I’m already looking at him.
He doesn’t ignore my texts. And I know he’s not bullshitting about not having a phone the way other guys do. He definitely doesn’t have one.
He likes everything I cook for him. Nicolas would never tell me I undercooked the pasta or used too much Cream of Tartar in the cookies. I know just the kind of bathroom sink water he likes, and can tell when he’s feeling a bit too dry just by touching his soil. Such a connection is rare in human-to-human relationships.
He’s focused on personal growth. He’s not satisfied with sitting idly. Upward mobility is his top priority. Every day his leaves lengthen, and as if that weren’t enough, he even grows new ones.
He gets along with all my friends. When I bring him out with the crew, there is almost no awkwardness. Sometimes people ask why I brought my plant to the bar, and for those people I feel nothing but pity–they clearly have never known a bond this strong.
I’m not trying to brag, I just want to let all you ladies out there know that it’s possible. It may not happen at Home Depot, maybe not even at Lowe’s, but Target has really upped their Garden Center, so try there.