I took this really pretty leaf from the ground on my way back home after school. It was a bright yellow with shades of orange blending toward a warm red . It was spiky on the edges, not enough to hurt, just tough on the surface. With the joy of a child being given candies, I happily and gently picked it up and almost in awe inspected its shape with the intent to bring it back home with me. It was a nice autumn leaf and I wanted to put it into my diary where I keep my hidden thoughts and feelings. So I opened the diary and cautiously made space for my newly discovered little treasure, then softly placed it inside on a blank page in order to let it dry completely. I was really excited about what would have been the out come, imagining how gracious it was going to look after I was done with it. It was such a perfect leaf but it needed some work, I fixed it with some tape so that it stayed in place. I waited some days and I was now back to my daily routine completely forgetting about my pretty and lonely leaf. But one day out of boredom I opened my journal to write something down and the leaf appeared in between some pages. It was different however. It was hideous and almost revolting to the sight. I was startled and overwhelmed. It was now an ugly and horrifying dead plant and I didn't know what to do with it. It was green mixed with brown and it was now covered in little bumps that resembled a skin allergy. I hated it yet I thought it would change over time if I waited some more, after all I was the one who picked it up and cared for it, all my work would go to waste, all my effort, all my hopes. I couldn't just abandon it, it needed me, and I needed it to work. I needed to prove I was worthy and capable. Despite it bringing me no happiness whatsoever, I had hope in a better future, in the name of trust and love. And so, days passed and again I slowly forgot about my dear leaf, it caught me by surprise when one day, while picking up my diary, it fell on the floor and this time the horror was even more frightening; it had gone moldy leaving my diary pages ruined where it laid, it fell on the floor and small little bugs crawled out and run under the surface of my room's furniture haunting me and leaving me anxious they might return. I picked up my once pretty leaf and with great anguish and distress I felt forced to get rid of it, as delicately as I could, I collected it from the wooden floor and saw how foolish and stubborn I had been to keep it for so long. And soon I realised the leaf I first held in my hands was long gone, my precious leaf was never meant to be kept in such a place, it had to follow its own path. Live and die under its tree, its mother, to fertilize her soil and feed little creatures outdoors. Love is about appreciation and not possession, I had been greedy and unfair and the leaf had to face the consequences.