I feel like this enormous weight has been lifted off of my shoulder. I think I am finally in a place, where I can stop, think, and move forward. My life is truly about me at this point, and all the birdies chirping in the world couldn't stop that. I have to remember that my problems are 900 miles away, and I don't have to carry the baggage of them behind me at every cost. I am blessed enough to be in this place. This place where no one knows too much of the story. Enough where I can truly begin to move on.
I think the hardest part has been realizing the truth about things. It's like I have said in previous posts, you can never plan for you life to be completely thrown of course. And who's to say I was even on the right course to begin with? I know that everyday I am learning. I am learning that losing someone, and something you love...isn't easy. You can't plan for it, you can't expect it, it sometimes comes without warning and really catches you completely off guard. Sometimes we have to go into survival mode. Cutting off everything and everyone that reminds us of the hurt. Dwelling in ourselves, slowly but surely putting together the reality of the puzzle. It's all about what happens as we slowly piece the pieces together. What we let back in, who we let back in, and at what cost?
I am by no means alleging that tomorrow I will wake up and it'll be like that opening scene in Snow White. No, No, No. There are many more tough day's and night's in my future. I think the first step to healing, is realizing this. Accepting it. Knowing what makes me weak, trying not to trigger it. Limiting my reflection time, to a smaller and smaller part of my day when applicable.
I have to remember myself first. He is not thinking of me, with every move he makes. Delicately not trying to step on any toes, ruffle any feathers that make me look "crazy". I have to remember who I was before all of this. What made him so attracted to me...what made us fall apart...what made me move away...and how this was the impending doom all along.
I didn't want it. I didn't want that lifestyle anymore. I loved him enough to know I had to leave him there in Portland, I didn't think of him first then...because I loved myself more to know I had to go.
It's funny how love gets things all complicated. How reality gets foggy somewhere in between. I came here for a purpose. My journey just got thrown a little off path. I will always recognize the love I have in my heart for him. He filled me with so much joy, when things felt so uncertain. There's no use dwelling on the he said she said stories that came falling at my feet in the end. I can't ever prove the truth. I can't ever hate what I don't know. So what's the point of knowing anyhow? I know what we had, and I know that it's time to move on from that.
If I can be somehow grateful for having my heartbroken into a thousand tiny pieces, I guess right now I am. As much as it hurts. As much as I feel like I am grieving a death of a part of me..I am grateful. I am grateful to know that this feeling can't last forever. That love is alive in real in the world, because I had the pleasure of feeling it.
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