Sincerely, YoursDear Mine,Why must you be so faint? Your color in the palette of my reality is scarce and hidden; barely detectable. You flick in and out on the brush of daily life, yet it seems you are loathe to leave your mark on the canvas.I promise I do not judge you for your continued lack of presence. However, my heart misses your flowers. The garden is still here where you have left it so many times, but is it really a garden anymore? How can it, when there seem to be no blooms. What once was warm, soft, and inviting is now a field of sharp and brittle toothpick-like grass. The blossoms have wasted away, anxiously waiting for your return, t