Aiah, a marketing supervisor, lives an active lifestyle; although she works a desk job, she loves outdoor activities. Every morning before she goes to work, she does her best to jog, may it be a rainy day or a sunny one. She likes to jog and meet people while doing it; she enjoys watching the landscapes and how the sunshine hits the foliage as the sunrises.
Her wife, however, is different; Stacey is a Weed Scientist but ironically, she prefers to stay indoors. Every time she tries to take Stacey to jog she always declines, saying she wants to sleep more. Aiah smiled at the thought of her wife; she picked up a weed on the side of the road and jogged back home.
When she arrived home, she was greeted by the smell of fried rice and dried danggit that made her stomach grumble. As she entered the kitchen, she was greeted by her wife dancing to the song "Can't Take My Eyes Off You.".
'Pardon the way that I stare
There's nothin' else to compare
The thought of you leaves me weak
There're no words left to speak
But if you feel like I feel
Oh, then let me know that it's real
You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you'
Aiah chuckled as she heard her wife sing along with the song and swayed her hips to the beat. She watched as she danced while cooking, and her voice was laced with glee as she sang along. When she saw her turn off the stove, Aiah then finally hugged her wife from behind and showed her the weeds she picked.
Stacey took the weed in front of her and had a big smile as she faced her. Aiah felt her heart squirm at the sight of joy on her wife's face; she mentally patted herself on the back for successfully making her wife smile.
She held her wife's waist and danced to the beat of the song. Stacey placed her hand on the back of her neck and the two of them sang along with the song, smiling all throughout it.
'I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright
I need you, baby, to warm a lonely night
I love you, baby, trust in me when I say
Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray
Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay
And let me love you, baby
Let me love you'
After their little kitchen dance, Aiah sat down at the dining table as Stacey plated their breakfast. Aiah placed the weed on the table, watching as her wife kept glancing at it with excitement. It made her laugh.
“Alright, love, what weed is it?” Aiah teased, nudging the weed toward her. “I know that look. Spill.”
Stacey gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “How could you just call it a ‘weed’? This right here—” she carefully picked it up between her fingers, “—is Commelina diffusa.”
Aiah blinked. “And that means...?”
Stacey beamed. “It’s a creeping weed, but it’s actually really useful! Some people call it ‘spreading dayflower.’ It thrives in moist areas and can even be eaten in some places. The leaves are full of nutrients, and they have medicinal properties, too. Isn’t that amazing?”
Aiah grinned, resting her chin in her hand. She loved how animated Stacey got when talking about plants. “So, you’re saying I picked a superstar weed?”
“Exactly!” Stacey’s eyes twinkled as she waved the plant in the air. “You, my love, have an eye for greatness.”
Aiah laughed as she scooped some fried rice onto her plate. “Well, I’d love to learn more, Professor Stacey.”
Stacey perked up. “Oh! You know what? Let’s go to my office after breakfast. I’ll show you some books and samples.”
Aiah wiggled her eyebrows. “Ooh, a private lecture? Sounds romantic.”
Stacey rolled her eyes playfully but smiled as she sat down beside her wife. “Eat first, then we’ll see about the romance.”
After breakfast, Aiah followed Stacey into her cozy home office. The room smelled of dried herbs and fresh soil, with shelves lined with books, pressed plant specimens, and labeled vials. Stacey pulled out a magnifying glass and a botany book, gently placing the Commelina diffusa on her desk. She motioned for Aiah to sit beside her.
“Look at this,” Stacey said, pointing at the tiny blue flowers. “Aren’t they pretty? They bloom for just one day, which is why they’re called ‘dayflowers.’”
Aiah leaned in, mesmerized by how much her wife knew. “That’s kind of poetic. Beautiful, but fleeting.”
Stacey nodded. “Exactly. But even though the flowers don’t last, the plant itself is resilient. It spreads and thrives no matter what.”
Aiah smiled, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind Stacey’s ear. “Kind of like us, huh?”
Stacey’s cheeks flushed as she laughed. “I suppose so.”
Aiah took her wife’s hands in hers, squeezing them gently. “I love seeing you like this. You light up when you talk about plants. It makes me want to learn more just to see you smile like that.”
Stacey leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Aiah’s nose. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep teaching you forever.”
Aiah grinned. “Sounds like a deal.”
From that day on, Aiah made a habit of picking different weeds every time she went for a jog. Rain or shine, she would pause her route whenever she spotted a new plant, carefully plucking it from the ground before tucking it safely into her pocket. She loved the way Stacey’s eyes would light up when she returned home and proudly presented her latest find.
“Look what I got today,” Aiah would say, grinning as she placed the plant into Stacey’s awaiting hands. Stacey would take it, examining it with delicate fingers, a soft hum escaping her lips as she identified it.
“Ah, this one is Stellaria media—chickweed! You’ve got a good eye, love.”
Every plant Aiah brought home, Stacey carefully pressed and preserved. At first, she stored them in notebooks and small albums, labeling them with Aiah’s name and the date she found them. But as the years passed and the collection grew, she began framing them, hanging them like artwork across their home. Each framed specimen held a story—a morning jog, a shared breakfast, a quiet evening spent preserving their love in the form of delicate leaves and petals.
Their home became a living museum of their adventures, their love documented in fragile, pressed weeds from all over the world. Whenever they traveled, Aiah would continue the tradition, wandering through foreign streets and hiking trails, picking tiny plants and flowers to bring home to Stacey.
In Japan, Aiah found a creeping plant with tiny white flowers growing near a temple. “What’s this one?” she asked, placing it into Stacey’s palm.
Stacey’s eyes gleamed. “That’s Galium japonicum—Japanese bedstraw. It’s a symbol of purity.”
In Italy, Aiah plucked a wild herb from a vineyard’s edge. “I got you something.”
Stacey chuckled, kissing her cheek. “That’s Nepeta cataria—catnip.”
In South America, Aiah brought home a vine she had carefully tucked into her pocket after a rainforest trek. “I had to climb a little for this one,” she admitted, handing it over.
Stacey gasped in delight. “Mikania micrantha! A climber, just like you.”
Years turned into decades, and their collection expanded, turning their home into a lush gallery of preserved love. The walls were covered in framed weeds, each one a testament to a life well lived together. When guests visited, they would marvel at the display, tracing fingers over the delicate leaves encased in glass.
“This is beautiful,” their friends would say. “Every piece tells a story.”
Aiah would nod, smiling proudly. “Every piece is a memory.”
Even as they grew older, the tradition never faded. Aiah still jogged, though a little slower than before, and Stacey still pressed and framed every plant she brought home. Their love, much like the plants they preserved, remained evergreen—resilient, enduring, and beautiful in its simplicity.
One evening, as they sat in their living room, surrounded by years’ worth of framed flora, Aiah reached for Stacey’s hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “You know,” she murmured, “one day when we’re gone, someone’s going to look at all these and wonder about the people who loved them so much.”
Stacey smiled and squeezed her hand. “And I hope they realize it wasn’t just about the plants. It was about us.”
Aiah nodded, her heart full. “Always about us.”
And with that, they sat in the quiet comfort of their shared love, surrounded by the fragile beauty of a lifetime’s worth of weeds—preserved forever, just like their love.
As the years continued on, the tradition grew to include their children and grandchildren. Their kids would bring them weeds from their own travels, laughing as Aiah carefully wrapped them in tissue to present to Stacey. The grandkids would sit on their laps, listening to stories of how each framed plant came to be.
When Aiah could no longer jog, Stacey would take short walks with her, pointing out tiny plants by the sidewalk and letting her pick them slowly and tenderly. As always, Stacey pressed them carefully, adding new memories to their ever-growing collection and making sure their love lived on in every delicate petal and leaf.