I didn’t think heartbreak would lead me here.

Today, I signed up for a course to learn how to care for orchids.

It sounds small. Almost silly, even.

But when your heart feels like it’s been shattered into forty thousand tiny pieces, you start reaching for anything that looks like it might help you put yourself back together.

I did it because I needed something gentle.

Something alive. Something that requires patience… the kind I don’t have right now, but maybe need to learn.

I read that orchids are delicate, but also stubborn in their own way.

That they don’t bloom all the time.

That sometimes they look like they’re dying, when they’re just resting.

I think I needed to hear that.

Because lately, I don’t feel like I’m blooming.

I feel like something inside me has gone quiet. Like everything that once felt warm now just… doesn’t.

Maybe I’m just in a season I don’t understand yet.

So I signed up for the course. Not because I believe it will fix me overnight,

but because I’m trying desperately and softly to take care of something.

Even if that something is just a plant.

Even if that something is, slowly, me.

If you’re also trying to heal in strange, quiet ways…

I see you.

And maybe we’re not as broken as we think we are.

Maybe we’re just learning how to grow again.