As a child, I would spend hours picking flowers and ripping the petals off, saying, “He loves me. He loves me not.” Each time it ended in not, my mood would sour, and the stem would crash to the ground with lost hope. It took me years to realize that the only love I ever truly needed was the love I have for myself. Stop killing flowers for love. Let them bloom. If you have patience, you will have a garden of love to share with the world around you.