I buy myself a dozen roses every week and put them in my bedroom. It’s good practice; learning to take care of yourself the way you might be inclined to care for others. Maybe it’s the age, maybe it’s the state of the world, maybe it’s the human condition, but I’ve seen so many people hurting, and hurting each other, lately. It makes me want to retreat, pull the shutters closed, draw the boundary tighter, and hold. Just hold on to my own heart and protect my own happiness. But I don’t think that’s the way we’re meant to live in this world.
I don’t understand why there are so many clever ways to be cruel when kindness is so easy.
The word said too sharply. The word said too softly.
The unanswered text. The call that never comes.
The confusion of mixed signals. The pain of clarity.
The frustration of being misunderstood.
The suffering of someone else’s selfishness.
The unreturned effort.
The residue of betrayal.
The dashed hope.
The carousel of regret.
I’ve seen it all. You’ve seen it all. We’ve held our own hearts in our own hands. We’ve watched wounds inflicted and scar. Yet, we all choose to cheer for love. Because that’s the way we’re meant to live in this world. Like goddesses and heroes, finding our own way out of the riptide and the labrinths of love and memory.
If you haven’t read the poem, Any Fool Can Get Into An Ocean, I hope you do. Here’s a link. And I hope you continue to cheer for love to win, even when it feels foolish. You can start today, by buying yourself some flowers and putting them in your room.