Imagine a gardener, not very good at his job, forgetting to till the soil or throwing away the humus because it smelt bad. Just the same as me, unable to pick
a shirt but quick to profess my love. My life is defined by bad decisions, and I’m proud of it too.
Impulsive and quick to judge, immature and young, but stupid like, unimaginativeness of youth crawling like red ants in my brain. Sometimes these bad decisions grew and sometimes they bore fruit but tne fruits left a bitter aftertaste kind of like my escapades in love.
But you learn right? One day you wake and suddenly you know how to grow a plant, when to water it, how to nurture it with care and sunshine. Then you meet this girl, sitting in your favourite pub, underneath a dim yellow light and you bring her flowers.
Every quarrel with her is a bad decision. But she loves me, so it’s kinda okay. To fight once in a while, to forget to till or add humus, because love never bears a bitter fruit, hardly ever.
P.C. – Markus Spiske on Unsplash