A special place in my heart.

Unfortunately, my time at family camp is over, but it was well worth it. I sat around a camp fire telling stories and eating s’mores, spent some time at the pool, ate at the dining hall and took a walk down the creek. There were times I felt like I was a teenager without a care in the world. Although there were few people who I grew up with, it was great to talk to who I could. Camp friends will always have a special place in my heart.

The last bit of my time on the camp ground was spent talking to a friend, who I know will read this post at one point or another. We talked about how our lives have changed and encouraged each other. As the conversation went on she mentioned this blog, and that she appreciated how I openly express myself. I told her that some days I honestly feel good, others not so good, but I try each day to write my truth. We both agreed that there is no doubt that one way or another the words I write here will give comfort to more than just me.

Camp is truly a special place where time has a way of standing still, and the connections we make last a lifetime. I hate to have to go back to the real world.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday. 

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Yet I forge forward.

Sometimes I sit and stare at the blinking cursor hoping that the perfect words will appear. A combination of letters that make everything that has happened and hurt me make sense. I know that a simple phrase is not enough, even a whole library would not even touch all the unanswered questions I have.

The further out I get from that awful day the more I understand that I do not have to have answers. Honestly, for some of my questions what I may find out might hurt more than not knowing. There are still days that all I can think about is the hurt, but more and more are good days that I have hope. I have no clue what path my life will take me down. If I could I would tell you that I was not worried or scared at all. The truth is not knowing is terrifying, yet I forge forward, going back is not an option.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.

One step at a time.

Everyday is a little bit different, but lately they have all felt the same. I am doing my best to take things one step at a time, but somehow I can never get enough steps in to move forward. I wake up with a list of goal I want to achieve each day, but somehow I always end up short and staying up far too late.

At the moment I am not sure what the answer is. I want to keep up this blog, do the dishes, go for a run, get my laundry taken care of, eat delicious food, cuddle with my cats, go to bed early, write, read and any other thing that needs to be done. Unfortunately, I have yet to figure out a way to make it all fit. Maybe tomorrow I will be more successful in my plan.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.

My safe place.

When I started writing this blog, I did not know what it would turn into. Honestly, I am still not sure I know. Blogging combines two things I am not very good at, keeping a journal and being open about my feelings in an articulate way. Usually I feel like I ramble through my emotions without reason. It also means all my hurt and pain can never be hidden because it will always be a search engine away.

My initial thought process in starting to pour myself into this place was for me to force myself to be honest and open about what I am going through. Not only for myself – but to show my family and friends how I am doing. There is nothing worse than being asked over and over how you are doing by people who care. It is not that I don’t want to tell them, but the truth is that it hurts to recount everything time and time again. Even good things hurt sometimes.

Another reason I write is for others. I am not the first, only or last person to have a relationship end tragically. I usually do not write specifically for the benefit of others. I try to be honest about everything in hopes that I can say something that will open up a new thought process for someone else in pain. My theory is that if people take the time to read my posts they either care about me or can relate to the emotions I am experiencing.

I do not know when this blog will end, maybe it never will. For now it is my safe place to share and record my recovery. I still have a long way to go, but I know when I get there it will be a beautiful place. For now I will keep writing.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.

Two months.

At some point I will stop keeping track of time. It won’t matter that it has been 58 days since I was left heartbroken and I will no longer dread the 11th of every month. Someday I won’t wonder how we could have celebrated each relationship milestone. Try as I might, that day is not today. Today is two months.

Two months of rebuilding and recovery. It is amazing how different month two was compared to the first. Over the last month I have grown remarkably and have started to step out of my comfort zone. Change is good. There are still many things that hurt, most days I still cry, but now the good things outweigh the bad.

I don’t know what my future will hold. The last month was full of amazing experiences, and I have high hopes for many good things coming my way. Whatever happens I know I can handle it and I know I will keep writing.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.  

When I write.

Somedays the words flow easily, other times my head is so full of things it can’t settle on a single idea. Today is a little bit of a floaty day, I have been sick which always makes cohesive thoughts difficult and writing a little bit fuzzy.

At the beginning of this unfortunate adventure I was writing, or at least outlining two or three posts a day. There was so much pain coming from so many places the words flowed without stopping. Now the pain feels targeted and inconsistent. Most of the time I prefer to look past the hurt and focus on other things. However, this does not always work.

Once I sit down to write and the words start to come they don’t always make sense. Sometimes I am not sure what the point will end up being. I end up writing and re-writing until something makes sense. Honestly, I am not sure the point really matters. After all, the last 50+ posts have not been to change the world. The goal has been to help me heal and process my feelings.

This is simply a place that I can be honest with myself and share my journey with those who care. I hope someday this can become a happy place full of wonderful thoughts and no pain. At the moment this is where I bottle up all my hurt so I can smile and hold in tears the rest of the time. When I write, there are always tears.

Tomorrow will be a little bit easier and I will become a stronger me everyday.