Water People

My new thing is trying to water myself. I do it in the quietness of being alone, however like my pot-plants, my track record isn’t great.

It seems like the only pot-plant I haven’t killed is a Elephant Palm. It lives in a vase of water. Ironically it is the only plant I haven’t bought, but was rather gifted to me by a doctor who’s dog I use to walk.

One afternoon, while picking up little Max, I couldn’t help but notice on her nightstand, ‘A Beautiful World’. Dressed in a light blue cover, the novel lives in my room too.

I remember it made me like her that much more- a doctor who in her small pockets of spare time read about people who are trying to notice the sugary sweetness of life, rather than it’s pain.

My latest instalment of ‘watering myself’, ironically, looks like night visits to the indoor pool. It’s one of the best things about this place, with its overpriced rent and somewhat scary neighbours.

Tonight I come down and catch the eye of a female swimmer. She looks around my age. She floats more than swims, with AirPods ins.

She stares at me with soft curiosity and I stare back. It’s like our eyes are sharing an almost conversation, of how your day- tired- you? Same.

We sign the silent interaction off with a smile-and I feel myself relax as we return to being two strangers floating in the same water.

I like how warm the pool area is, despite the water being stone cold.

I like to dip my toes in first, before sitting down on the edge. Usually I then swim a dozen or so laps before giving up and floating for a while. Or forfeiting the whole idea, in favour of reading my book. My legs enjoying the smooth silkiness of water and what it does to skin.

It’s Valentine’s Day today, and I happened to go to the one place that’s literal hell- the shopping centre. Not only was it filled with people, it was filled with couples, over-priced flowers and busy feet.

The past week I haven’t been that social either. Idk why- randomly all my friends are sick or preoccupied. I think that’s why I find myself seeking validation like an addict- always on the lookout, as my fingers attack the Instagram and Facebook apps the moment my eyes open.

So perhaps the ‘watering’ isn’t really working as well as I hoped. I feel moreso like I’m in a drought of self, surrounded by water.

But hopefully therapy can be the expensive fertiliser to help me figure myself out again or even just a long convo with a friend.

I know this year I have all these cool goals ahead- visiting Japan, starting my career in fashion, quitting alcohol, graduating uni and perhaps getting published in a magazine.

So I just need to find a way to keep in mind big picture thinking, and not get caught up on the feelings that pop up throughout the day.

2023 is the year great things will happen- not just for me but for everyone. I’m sure of it.


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