I once dated a woman who had a fine ficus, although she tried her best to kill it. It was a lovely thing though, and I nursed it into a beautifully intertwined thing, green and alive. And the girl and I married.
Some time later, I found a stick in a pot on a streetcorner in Milwaukee. Nursed it for while, and ended up with one fug-ugly unruly ficus in a pot. Never could find a way to make it as pretty as the first, but they became life-long companions. Then came the dissolution of my marriage. Of course, the first ficus made the long list of things that were "her's", and I was left with the stick in the pot.
Been five years now, and I still can't kill it. Alsih2o took some pity on it the last time he visited, so I've made an effort to water it every once in a while. But only so much, by gawd. Only so much.
It's skeletal limbs are mocking me as I write this. It refuses to die.
HTH