Returning To The Place Where It All Began

I had 8 days to spend back there, in the place where it all began and the place where it all ended. The place that built me and broke me. The place where I turned from a girl into a woman, from a woman to a wife, and from a wife to a divorcee’.

I had 8 days to pass there, and where once 8 days would have seemed like a flash; in a moment of fear and dread, 8 days seemed like forever.  Wanting to return before I even got there, missing my family, my friends, my room, and my home before I event left; the tension and the fear made me suddenly realize how fast I have adjusted to my new life, to my new surroundings. How quickly I already felt at home in this new place.

Funny how so many things in life are taken for granted. How I didn’t even realize how quickly I fit straight back in. Knowing the circumstances of my return, and that it was not me who wanted to leave in the first place, I never thought I would enjoy myself as much as I do in my new life. I never thought I would fit quite so easily without skipping a beat. I never imagined myself falling straight on my feet, ready to run again.

But apparently all I needed was to go back to the place where it all began in order to realize I am in a much better place now. I am much more content. Much happier and relaxed.  They say that “one way to appreciate what you have is to imagine yourself without it.” I guess as much as I took being back home for granted, imagined it would never suit me, or satisfy me… I now realize I love being back. It doesn’t mean I am never nostalgic, or sad, regretful, or reminiscent of my past; but it means I am also coming to terms with the new place I am in, my new life, my new beginning.

Chasing The Future, She Stumbled Into Her Past

“Setback we face them every day.

Some cause us to stumble;

others bring us to our knees. 

 Each setback brings with it the opportunity to rise up,

to be stronger and better and braver than before”

The date is set, it is coming upon me, and ever since I’ve been in the gloomiest of moods. The closer it gets the heavier my heart feels, and the more nervous I am. I feel stuck again. Devastated. Uninspired. I’ve checked out, and yet feel restless even in my sleep. I wonder how much of a setback this will be. How will feel? And how much will it hurt?

But where would we be without struggle, without hardship, and pain? It’s easy to forget how much these moments teach and shape us. How different we would be without them. And it seems that everyone thinks I have grown so much from this. I just wish I was as strong as everyone thinks I am. I wish I was doing as good as everyone believes, or as good as I pretend. Fake it till you make it, right? Well I’ve been doing it, or at least trying. I’ve been shutting off my thoughts, pushing them deeper, ignoring them, I’ve been closing the faucets in the corner of my eyes, not allowing myself to cry, or feel vulnerable or hurt. I’ve been numbing the pain. No longer talking about it, or writing it down. Hoping that ignoring it will make it go away.

I’ve been told that all it takes is just the conscious choice to be in a good place, a choice to see the positive spin on things, to see the beauty that others see. So I’ve been pretending that I’ve moved on, that I’m alright. I’ve been showing interest in new men, in a new job, in my new life. But it’s all been a lie. I still feel everything I felt before. I am still attached to the life I left behind. I still miss being a wife, a partner, a lover, a friend. I still miss waking up together next to someone enfolded in his arms, I still miss cooking for two, and I still miss our regular outings, our friends, going to movies, holding hands. I miss that comfort that I had. All I really want is some comfort, and a way to calm the angry voice. All I really wish for is happiness. I’m not sure with whom but in general. I just want to find my place. To be happy again. To love and be loved in return.