A houseplant is dying. Tell it why it needs to live.

I’m not going to try to pretend that your role in this universe is significant. It’s a sad truth that people and plants alike need to accept. Sometimes you’re just meant to grow, bloom, and die with no real accomplishments except passing on your genes. That’s okay. That doesn’t mean that your life isn’t important.

There are geometric patterns that are found commonly in the smallest atoms and the largest galactic formations, and a myriad of items in between. We’re all connected by the same elements on the periodic table, all connected by the same binding and dissolution of structures smaller than the eye can see. Everything that has been and everything that will be has been a different combination of these patterns. We are all unique, and we are all the same.

See, sometimes I get really melancholy about whether or not I’m doing the right thing. Occasionally, I find myself mourning what could have been and all of the goals I should have achieved by now. I’m unsure if anything I’m doing is worth the effort it takes. But then I remember that no one has had the unique combinations to form who I am. No one has been through the exact experiences I have to form my personality. No one has the strange blend of soul, intelligence, and physical being that I carry. And I’m the only one that can do it justice.

That is what keeps me getting out of the bed every day. I am the only one who can live my life for me, and I’m responsible for my happiness. I will achieve what I set out to do if I don’t quit. Only I get to experience this beautiful, strange blend of events. It’s my responsibility to live it, and do whatever I can to make it the best life I can give myself. Sometimes that just means showing up for breakfast in the morning.

And who knows your worth, really? Who gets to judge that? Only you know your own worth, and you’re subjectively biased. Others don’t know what it’s like to be in your skin, so they’re objectively biased. Don’t make assumptions that you’re worthless. For me, you give me something to look forward to. I know I can take care of you and you’ll make sure I keep getting up to check on you. We need each other.

You may want to give up, but I promise I’ll do better. I need you, and you need me. Don’t give up just because you’re discouraged and defeated. Whether or not anyone will remember you, make your life worth remembering. Don’t give up now. You have no idea what the future will bring. And maybe, if you’re lucky, that will be a nice, big, new ceramic pot when I get my next paycheck.

This is part of the 642 Things to Write About challenge. Read the previous entry here.

This is prompt #3. Click the heart if you wanna make me smile, and follow me if you want to see more from this challenge.

Like what you read? Give Amanda Arpin a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.