“I wish I could have loved you like a fairytale,” I thought as I drove over the Delaware. “I wish I could have loved you the way I dreamt I would when I was 16.” The thought lingered through every song, every word, every mile. And then you wanted nothing more. You wanted nothing more of me and the broken fantasy. So many years of waiting and emotional torture. So many nights spent awake wondering what you were doing and what if, what if, what if. Now it all fell off my bags like dust into the wind. The words you spoke, the words that brought my tears nearer to you, everything I wanted to hear for 15 years.. I glued them to the walls of my shattered dreams, hoping to mend what little heart I have left. If I couldn’t make it work with you, the man I stitched into the farthest and deepest corners of my dreams, then how could I possibly expect it to work with anyone else? And now, now we are — what we never were — a distant memory. I’m forgotten. You’re bitter.
(written yesterday – Sunday, July 10th)
Today is my last at Brick Fitness, and I have to admit I feel far more happiness than sadness over this ending. My time here has considerably dropped over the last two months, but the decision to leave had been festering inside of me for months before. I kept talking about it and thinking about it, trying to figure out a way to make it work. Deep down I knew my heart was no longer in being here and it was time. It was beyond time.
Of course losing a source of income sucks, no matter how little it may be. It is one less thing to have to fall back on. A little bit of security has been tossed away. When I think of what I stand to gain, though, I’m soothed.
Having just a little more time to myself and to spend with my family is priceless. There is no amount of money worth missing out on quality time spent living and connecting. I have missed out on doing plenty because of my work schedule over the last two years, so to be free of the restriction feels great as well. It’s the cherry on top.
Saying goodbye to some of the regulars and my coworkers was a little sad but also heart warming. I have connected with so many wonderful, sweet, and inspiring women over the last two years. To know my time spent greeting and conversing with those lovely ladies has come to an end is absolutely tugging at my heart strings. They wished me so well and I know they meant it. I didn’t want to create a big fuss and advertise I would be leaving my post here behind the desk. But for those who knew and sent me off with such kind words, well wishes, and big love, I am so appreciative.
So tomorrow after job #1 I will simply go home to my family. And next weekend I will not have to set an alarm. And all will be well with the world. Life will roll on, and I will make it work. Whatever comes next will come eventually. In the meantime I am looking forward to just being.
At the start of this new year (and age) I told myself this would be the year I stopped resisting. It would be the year I went with the flow more, I discovered a little more of myself, I laid the hang ups to rest, and I learned to move on. I don’t necessarily feel any closer to having accomplished any of that and here we are nearly six and a half months in! I like to think making this decision has filled in one piece of the puzzle. I can check it off my list, and move onto the next.
My life has changed so drastically in the last month and a half. My priorities have shifted. My core has been shaken. My faith in humanity has been tested. My will to fight has most certainly been put to the test. But if there is one thing unshakable inside of me it is honoring my truth. Knowing when to listen to my intuition on matter how scary it may seem in the moment and how uncertain it may make the future. When it is time to act in accordance with my inner guidance I can’t ignore it. I have to act. And so I did.
I have made plenty of happy memories in this place (well, both locations!). We have had a storm of laughter together. We have spent cranky hours trying to lighten the mood in the middle of the night (gotta love Black Friday specials!). I put myself through schooling thanks to having the downtime during my shift to do homework. I made some wonderful friends. I learned a lot about myself, and about women and women connecting with other women. I’ve drank wine and margaritas on shift. I’ve seen some darling children come through the doors, and I have watched countless transformations in others. This place has given me so much more than a paycheck or a place to workout. It created a shift inside of me, one I didn’t realize outright until just now.
It will be sad to walk out that door one last time (with the key getting stuck thanks to the humidity I’m sure haha). But I am going home. I am going to create a little more space in my life for myself. I am giving myself exactly what I need in the here and now. And there is no greater gift to the self than that.
No one can truly understand what it is I am going through. I don’t fault anyone for that. My situation is pretty far outside the ‘norm.’ I get it.
I’ve been put in a situation in which I never wanted to find myself. A situation I worked so hard to avoid. And yet here I am.
I couldn’t imagine going back. I couldn’t imagine being in a different life than mine, no matter how hard I may wish on stars. This is my life now. It is the only life I have come to know. In all of its grotesque twists and turns, I have become uncomfortably comfortable. This is my norm.
Then there are all the minute details of this life, details I work so hard to – again – avoid and yet they are so far out of my control. I should mention I don’t like not being in control of my life. After all, it is this feeling that led me down the dark path of anorexia. A hell I somehow survived.
But can I survive this?
Time ticks on. The days fly by. The calendar changes before I have even had a chance to register what day it is.
Life keep rolling on. All the while I feel as though I am standing still. In the eye of a tornado, simply watching, marveling, at the outside world spinning on around me uncontrollably. I’m waiting for the dust to settle.
It begins to pick up speed.
And there are two little lives inside. Neither of which are mine. These precious little lives strewn about. I feel incapable, unprepared, unfit to hold. Yet here I hold.
I often wonder when this life of mine will truly be my own again. To dictate. To write. To live.