I'm learning that choosing plants is a lot like dating.
You're having a great time, sharing a drink or two, enjoying casual chit-chat, talking about your hobbies and interests... getting through the 'getting to know you' phase. Even if it goes well, it doesn't necessarily mean you've found 'the one.'
I am learning that just because a plant may spend fifteen months in a pot on my CD rack, it doesn't mean the relationship will last the test of time and/or my gardening abilities.
Of course, the plant-date analogy only goes so far. I've had a few dates crash and burn, but none of the women ended up dead in a dumpster.
Sadly, that was Burton's fate. Oh, sure, I told Duncan that Burton was leaving to live on a farm (it was either that or 'Burton ran away' but I don't want Duncan to know that's an option.) I'm not sure Duncan believed me anyway. I think he noticed that the farm-truck looks a lot like a garbage truck.
Indeed it does.
Burton the Bromelaid is no more, but that doesn't mean I don't look back fondly on our time together. And I won't hold the experience of a failed relationship against other Bromelaids I may meet in the future.
Burton was a good friend. We laughed together, we cried together, we swapped tales from days of our youths. I thought we had such great chemistry, but in the end, it wasn't enough. Also, he turned brown.