A Dead Plant and A Silenced Heart
When I moved to my current place, there was a dead plant in the balcony. It was left by the previous residents and the place was vacated for four months before I moved in.
I put the plants I had there, but I did not remove that dead plant.
Someone told me that I can water it, and it might grow back. I did that for about a week.
It seems silly now, but that’s what we do with more abstract things when they die.
You have the memories of how great it was, though it feels lifeless now. You hope that if you keep working on it, it’ll be back to what it used to be and continue from there.
But as with the plant, it doesn’t happen.
You keep trying to fix something that isn’t there anymore, at least not the vital part.
But instead of accepting it, you tell yourself that if you were nicer, if you were a better person, if you improved in some way, if you put a bit more effort- someone will notice it and it’ll be back to life.
You silence your heart because it knows and it keeps telling you what has happened. But you don’t want to listen.
Then one day, a stranger calls to drop the news that it’s dead. After you are done trying to explain to them how it isn’t, you want to get angry at them.
Because maybe they knew when it was dying, and they could tell you to do something about it.
Or at least tell you a bit earlier; saving you the effort and embarrassment.
But maybe they were not sure about it either.
Now you are left in your room unable to sleep at three in the morning, with an alarm that’ll go off at Eight asking you to start the life with some of the pieces missing.
You try to look at the positive side that now you have more time and energy. The routine you prepared to turn yourself into a better self stares at you from the desk. Maybe it’s too soon to get back to it. But you know you’ll be better off going with it, even though it can’t bring anything back to life.
The best thing about all of this is that the heart returns to you. Not because earlier it was with someone else, or it was too involved with that dead thing. But because now it knows it can talk to you again.
You won’t silence it since what you didn’t want to hear is everywhere now.
It isn’t very cheerful or talkative, but it’s okay. It has rarely been that way. And it knows for some time now that happiness might not be the right goal to pursue anyway.
It’s enough to know that it’s there, and you can be honest with it again.
It’s a good, probably the best, companion to decide on where to go from here.
PS: Attaching the image of the plant. Now that I have attached it to something else, it is too much to keep anymore. I will be getting rid of it in next few days.