I have to pick myself up again.
When I woke up today, the first thing I did was imagine how much my heart was going to break every time I remember the pain. How many tears would fall before I fell asleep again and forget that I just lost something I have had for five years. There’s an ache in my chest, the heaviness has me gasping for breath, my heart won’t stop racing, and my mind can’t stop overthinking.
I can see it happen all over again; I can feel my heart shatter and my soul crash. I remember the moment I realized that the universe had guided me to a transition that I would never have expected. My eyes met my new reality, and my body caved at the realization of what that moment meant.
Today I have to listen to the voices that won’t shut up, and with every word they utter, my mind goes to work to create the image. I can see the smiles, the happiness, the beauty, I can feel the love, touch the excitement, and experience the satisfaction, all over again. And as I lean into the recollection of a life that was, I see the one that is.
I have to remind myself that my life is guided by something bigger than I can understand, and the only way for me to grow into the best version of myself is to go through transitions. Sometimes that means dancing barefoot on the wet grass with your childhood hero or laughing through the night with new friends.
However, sometimes, that means seeing someone you love at a café with someone else, and there is nothing you can do but sit in the disregard. Sure, it is painful, but leaving is not an option when you are sitting opposite a happy little soul enjoying her ice cream.
Whichever way it comes, one thing remains certain, the only way to get through it is to go through it. Resisting will not work; you cannot force your heart to heal. You cannot slap a band-aid on broken trust and wish the pain away.
I have learned to sit in the discomfort and listen to my pain. There is a dawning awareness of my anguish and hope, a recognition of the things that prompted that reality, seeing it from both sides, and understanding that two things can co-exist.
I could be scared shitless and still carry my chair to join a table with a famous person. I could be holding my hands together to stop them from shaking while nodding my head to the beautiful music played by the 60100 Band. I could be hoping they don’t think it is weird, or I am intrusive if I sit there and not talk to them and still be glad that they invite me into their space and embrace me with kindness and gentleness.
I could be angry for a broken heart and be glad that someone chose themselves and dared to put themselves out there looking for something they wanted, something I know I could never be. The existence of one fact doesn’t necessarily negate the other.
Today I have to sit in that awareness and remind myself that everything is a passing wave. That all I need is to sit in my feelings and learn whatever this is meant to teach. There are perks to hitting rock bottom; if I am lucky, I will grow.