The flowers around her blooming like an early spring. She sees beauty and happiness all around. So she goes to a dark corner, the place that it's easiest to hide from all that sunshine. Each time she stays longer than before.
She is good for awhile; she will talk and laugh more, sleep and eat normally--almost as if she is blooming into a beautiful flower herself. But, out of nowhere something happens, like a switch turns off somewhere, and all she is left with is the darkness of her mind; her flower begins to wilt. Each day her flower falls over a little more, and each day her flower continues to die.
As she lets go of her dead flower and lets the tears slowly roll down her broken face, she whispers to herself, "I don't want to be me." She wants to talk about it; she wants to yell or to scream, to shout it to everyone around her. But, all she can push out is "I'm fine." She doesn't want others to see her dead flower when everyone else's flower is bright and beautiful.
So, she decides to plant her own garden, a big garden, full of beautiful bright flowers. She decides to decorate her own soul instead of fixating on the flowers around her. She realizes that a flower does not think of competing with the one next to it; it just blooms. Because a rose can never be a sunflower, and a sunflower can never be a rose; all these flowers are beautiful in their own ways.
