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Our new relationship was blooming, just like the first roses of the season. The delicate petals were slowly separating to reveal its full glory. It was pure. Right. Whole. Until it wasn't. Too many factors pulled us apart. Our lives were shaped before we met. They were part of a glorious garden of hope and promise. Neither of us seemed willing to prune the old to make way for the new, so eventually, we withered and died. But like with the greatest gardens, the best plants only go dormant. They slumber through the harsh winter, only to be reborn in the spring.