Why should a man die while sage grows in his garden?

The T-man left today for a two week visit to Homeland, USA. Also, today I found that my sage --rescued from a Home Depot, about to flower and one of my favorites-- died overnight for no apparent reason.

There is no relation between the two events above. Or is there?

I took the sage from the pot, washed away the dirt, got rid of most of the leaves and set it in a glass with an efigy of the Virgin Mary. Lord knows the poor plant needs a miracle.

(And when googling to find out what could have happened to the sage, I came across the proverb "Why should a man die while sage grows in his garden?". Now this has had me intrigued all day. What does that mean, exactly?)

I'm going to miss Tim so much. It's true. I've come to think my emotional IQ must be of around 14; I still think I need a break, that I need to be alone for now and moreover, I think he's not good for me in the long run, but I still can't help but missing him sorely when he's not around.

Or maybe it's just that he's fun and sweet and attentive to me, and he's wearing my resistance down little by little.

Is that good or bad? On the one hand, didn't I promise myself that I *wouldn't* let myself be carried into another relationship I didn't really want? And on the other, could it be that I'm just trying to push everyone away in another satisfying episode of self-sabotage?

But even though I miss him, it still feels wrong. Does that mean anything?

As you can see, this post is full of absurd meanings that could/could not be there.

Afternote: Momichi had three kittens on Monday. They're all red, black and white; according to my folk knowledge, this coloration is exclusive to females. Bel didn't want to believe me when I told him he'd probably be dealing with three more girls in his house. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure I'm not. They're three little ladies, gods have mercy on us.