One of my plants dried up a week ago and now I find myself talking to it, saying that it’s going to be alright, providing it the nourishment it needs, and telling it to hang out with its friends beside it. I know that this is an attempt towards reconciliation, towards hope. Metaphor, these days, is plenty and also hopeless.
In our younger years, we used to throw around the word “existentialism” and somewhere a God or many must have laughed at us, a seer who could see far into the future poured itself a beautiful looking drink and smiled at our folly, the planets kept on being giantesses and gorgeous not telling us a thing about how “existentialism” was going to hit us in the face like a well-baked brick. This year, all of it, has been existential. It is amazing, though, that I wasn’t able to define it at all until I heard the word again recently.
We had no idea.
We have no idea.
When I started out blogging, I imagined that I would keep using this blog for decades. I’m glad that I’ve been able to keep it for one decade, at least. 11 years of this blog. Time has not flown by. It has not been easy. But I’ve done it with the generous help of friends who encouraged me, and for everyone who has been reading. If nothing, I’ve had more than one dream come true. Truth be told, I have had many dreams come true. In one of my older blogoversary posts (that I read before writing this) I had mentioned at some point I wanted to visit London. Reading my past self write about it while my current self knows I’ve been able to do it is a surreal experience. Maybe that’s why one writes for posterity. I used to think about this a lot — why write at all? I don’t ask this question anymore because I have come to accept it as a thing I must do like breathing or eating or sleeping. There’s no why, there just is.
It took me a lot of strength to write this post because I have very little will to do anything these days. I’m tired is the refrain of this year. We are all tired. But now since I am here, after having had gone to buy a new plant and returned empty handed, still smelling of the Burberry perfume I wore just for the sake of it, and determined to make this one count, I just have to say to some people who have stood by me through this year : I love you.
You, who loved me like no one did. You, who listened to me cry about my unchanging days. You, who raged with me about this government. You, who sent me memes and videos in the middle of the night. You, who matched every donation I made. You, who bought me coffee. You, who calmed my anxiety. You, who checked in on me at regular intervals. You, who were also miserable just like I was. You, who video called me. You, who prayed for me. You, who cooked food and sent me pics. You, who sent me money to buy books. You, who fed me. You, who told me not to fear the future. You, who grew plants and sent me pics of your vegetables and flowers. You, who let me be vulnerable with you. You, who showed so much courage to live your own life even when none of us could hold you up.
I love all of you with every piece of my broken heart.
Like I tell my dried plant, everything is going to be fine. Or not. But you have me.
You have me.
As always, it is like a breather after a suffocating embrace.
You’re too kind. Hugs.