A faded rose

There have been a few boys in my life who sent me flowers. I know I’ve talked about this in the past. A couple of them sent roses monthly. Now weekly, I’m back to picking myself up flowers because they are something I just appreciate the beauty of. 

Back in the day, I wanted flowers not because they were beautiful, but because they told me that I mattered to someone. Maybe that doesn’t change, because I feel like we all want to matter to someone. Maybe that’s why I still buy them for myself. 

But I didn’t appreciate their beauty for what they were back then. They were mostly a symbol that I was worth something. One guy was charming, the other was a nightmare - and I guess ironically, that’s a perfect description of me right now. Sometimes I feel happy and charming... and sometimes I feel such anxiety, I imagine I’m nothing but a nightmare for those close to me. 

It’s definitely midlife crisis time. No idea what’s going to snap me out of that. The weight of responsibility is just... crushing sometimes. 

But every day, I see these roses on my table. I appreciate their beauty. Sometimes as I put them in the vase, their thrones catch my fingertips and the pain sits there for a few days. Eventually, those roses will fade and I’ll need to refresh them. 

And somehow, I need to refresh myself so I can find my joy and beauty again. 

Any tips for a mid-life crisis?