It was a seed, but not just any seed. It was special in its common flaws, unique in its ordinary self loath, and gifted in his talentless rationalizations. He hated what he loved.

The days were fickle, but he stayed the same. He pondered at why the bees would always seek the flowers and not him. He had no thorns to hurt them and no colorful tricks to fool them.

On a fateful stormy night, the seed stumbled and fell from its shelter. It was consumed by the rain and the winds. What else could he feel but overwhelming fear?

The storm passed and with it came the sun. It shined brighter than he could have ever imagined. What followed was a realization. He realized that a little leaf – it was smaller than small – had grown on his side.

He had not forgotten the fear that came with the storm, but at that moment he had made a decision—he would face the next storm.

As such things are, it would be difficult. He started digging a hole but was interrupted by another storm . He swayed again with the wind in fear, but this time he had a bit of control over this fear.

After countless storms he finally rooted itself to his satisfaction. No storm could blow him away now. At this point, it had already grown tall and strong with beautiful, white pedals on its head. He acknowledging his progress and couldn’t help but smile at his past self. He was himself more than he had ever been.

He was not afraid of the storm anymore, but that did not mean he would stop. He would grow until the day it dies -- bettering itself in its own imperfect way.

It was then that he felt a weird sensation on its pedals.

A gentle but steady buzzing followed.