Desperate. Just...too much, you know? At first, I thought it would be something cool. Pick a few figs, roast them with goat cheese, congratulate myself on living an organic life. Going back to the soil, man! Had I known she was so clingy and needy, maybe I wouldn't have approached her that first night.
Ripe figs everywhere like daily phone calls just to see what's up. Way too eager to please, offering up really plump purple figs on a daily basis. It's like...just be yourself, baby. You don't need to impress me non-stop.
Then when I neglect her for a few days, she goes crazy. Makes some figs go overripe and attracts bugs. Big green beetles. Like not showering or something. Or threatening suicide. Then I feel bad and reward her with the attention she's seeking. Then I have 25 more figs in my fridge and that sticky white tree sap clumping my arm together. I'm not satisfied with such an all or nothing relationship.
This is not what I was envisioning when I first introduced myself. God forbid the orange tree gets jealous and starts dropping ten pounds of oranges on my head when I walk past. Fortunately, Orangina is around the corner of the house and can't see my constant canoolding with Figabeth.