The truth is, for the past month, my heart has been in extreme, ripped from my chest and wrung out, pain. This plant was yours. When you left us, I was so concerned about your plants dying. It's almost all I thought about, besides *how do I tell Oma, again today, that you've passed. How long will I sit in a room with her before she asks me where you are. It never took long. Those first few weeks. They were a living hell. I couldn't listen to music. I ran out of the gym five minutes after getting there because I couldn't hold back my tears. I cried deeply and painfully until I couldn't squeeze another tear out past my swollen eyes, until my face felt like my cheek bones were going to shatter, until I was gagging so hard that I finally just fell asleep from pure exhaustion. Those days were on repeat for months. Losing you has been the greatest tragedy my heart has ever suffered. You were my favorite human being. Your plants are still alive in my house and backyard. I don't know what I'll do if they ever cease to be. I can't even think about it. I miss the hell out of you.