“Is this crazy?” she asked.
“Of course it is,” she replied, “that’s what makes it life.”
—
It’s been a little over three years since my marriage ended. I’m 32 years old and it feels impossible to know that I could have been married and divorced already in this lifetime. It feels impossible to know that I can live a completely different life. It feels impossible to even predict how life will change and unfold and hurt and be glorious in the future. Everything, most of the time, feels impossible and, yet, worth doing.
The winter is never easy for me. Next week is daylight savings and I am practically marking the days off on the calendar in anticipation. Longer days. More light. Spring and growth and green and sun and, PLEASE WINTER PACK YOUR BAGS I AM READY TO BE DONE. I’ve already started to wake up on my own in the morning as the sunlight arrives as a natural alarm clock. It feels like hope.
Over the past three years I’ve learn a lot about myself. Most of it has scared the shit out of me. A lot of what I learned was undesirable. Yet, in some crazy way it has brought me closer to an amazing respect I am able to have towards who I am. In a lot of ways, the last year have been like a long winter. Some sun but mostly gray. It’s hard to move through a life knowing you got some shit to work out and being scared as hell to face it. It’s hard to live with regrets and guilt (oh, guilt? Seriously, fuck you). And it’s even harder to step up the plate when you know the work you have to do involves crawling deep inside yourself. Into the winter of your soul.
But it feels like spring is near.