and all it took was a vase of roses.
sometime in january, when i wasn’t the happiest of people – and that’s putting it mildly – one of my closest friends, otherwise known as Ms. R, gave me some sage advice, and as is her fashion, it was in beautiful poetry. it woke me up a little, and for months, the poem was stuffed in my wallet, easy to be whipped out at any time i needed strength or guidance or anything that would remind me that the misery wasn’t worth it. today, for the first time since the 6th of january, i took it out of my wallet and put it away. i don’t need it anymore.
one of the lines that had really stuck with me and made me shrivel up inside, was about not waiting for someone to get you flowers, but to learn to plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead. i don’t need these lines anymore, to stick or make me shrivel up inside. not only have i learnt this past year how to plant and decorate, gardens and souls of my own, i also have a someone to get me flowers. in the metaphorical sense, and in the reality of fully-bloomed red roses sense.
and the soul and garden that i made for myself, are happy to see roses, sent from a country away, happy they’re there to help in lifting the burden of making me yay, happy that all it took was a vase of roses from a gentle and wonderful g-man to make me malleable to happiness again, as opposed to being dubious and suspicious of it, even when it’s staring me in the face, doing a little naked dance shouting, “look at me, look at me, wontcha just look at me, damn you?!”
so, finally, i can let down barriers in an exhausted gush of relief, thanks to 5 beautiful words on a card. this is me, being happy. this is me, learning to confide and curb temper tantrums and mood swings. this is me, softening the sharp edges the start of the year brought. this is me, relishing a someone; not waiting for him to get me flowers, but being glad that i have him to get them for me all the same.
this is me, sitting here, and smelling my roses. being happy.