Abandoned plant

So I'm not really sure why the human is drowning me in water right now and putting me in the window. It's a bit chillier here in the window than over on the desk, but it is also brighter, so that's nice. Huh, she's also closing the shades even though it's bright out. Usually she waits until it's dark out to close the shades. But, whatever, humans are much stranger than plants I guess. Huh it's been a while since the human left the room. She's usually back by now, but I guess there are firs times for everything. The night sky sure is pretty to look at and I never got to see it before since the shades were drawn and I was on the desk, but it's a nice view here from the window sill. I quite like this view, but I wonder if I should be worried about the human, she's still not back. Did she drown me because she knew that she wasn't coming back for a while? Did she think drowning and drought made a balanced life as opposed to just two times of sorrow? Perhaps so. But now that I'm no longer drowning, I'm trying to enjoy this brief moment where I have enough water for I fear she won't be back until after this time has passed and it's moved into drought. The bright parts of the days seem to be getting shorter now, perhaps that's why the human moved me to the window. I do need the sunlight, but there is something so serene about the night sky especially combined with the quiet of her room and the rooms next to it as well as above it. The roads seem to be just as sporadically quiet as before. The night is a perfect, peaceful, silence and I revel in it, but I fear that it won't help me grow. Does looking into darkness, no matter how serene offer anything or does it only make you ponder? Is pondering worth something in its own right? Who knows? Finally the days seem to be getting longer again, but that was a very long night. It's not that it suddenly went from short periods of brightness to long ones, but I swear I can tell the difference now. It could be said perhaps I'm just imagining that, but since I eat the sunlight, am nourished by it, I think I have a pretty good sense of how much brightness there is in the sky. The darkness still comes and it's still peaceful, but somehow I have begun to grow tired of it even though it is lessening. Maybe when something is pulling away from you, you begin to distance yourself from it out of the desire to not be broken when it is ripped away. The other humans are loud tonight, but my human has yet to return. They are making rowdy shouts and lighting up the sky with false shooting stars, yet I could swear there is a sense of still wishing upon them. Perhaps I read too much into the actions of humans, but there isn't much to do as a plant. All you can do is observe the world around you and since I'm a house plant and not a garden plant, I am mostly observing the comings and goings and actions and inactions of humans. There isn't much else to observe. Hardly anything else in this room moves. There is the occasional spider that crawls near me, but they never approach too closely. I cannot read much into the actions of the spider for most of their life is hidden from me, but I know they weave beautiful webs that they use to devour other bugs. Everything else in this room only moves because of the human. All of us are reliant on her to give us any sense of life. My soil has begun to dry out. I hope the human will return soon. It is an odd thing to be so dependent on another being that cannot understand you. Sure, she can, to some extent, understand me. She knows I need light and water and that growth is a good sign and, perhaps, she even knows that I will one day sprout a flower before, eventually, withering and dying, joining the soil that will nurture another generation. But she knows not that I think and observe and wonder about her. I doubt she knows that I worry for her at times for I have seen everything that has passed, and not passed in the room. But now my sight feels as though it is growing dim because it has grown used to watching the stillness. Will I still be able to see movement or will it become just a smudged blur in my vision as though it is moving too fast to be seen? What's that? Do I finally hear noise coming from within the apartment? Yes? Is that her key in the door? Yes! She is home! She appears to be dragging a large amount with her, but she sounds relieved to finally be indoors once more. I smell the vague scents of cheese and meat and bread and garlic. I hear her shuffling about and I wait with, if I breathed, would be bated breath. I hear her the sink run and then I hear her approach. The curtains are thrown open and I am drowned once more.

(Prompt by me)