Do you know what it feels like to get punched in the gut? That feeling where you can't breathe? Where every breath hurts, and you can never fully catch your breath? I am slowing getting there, slowly catching my breath after a gruesome punch in the gut. When someone gets in a horrific car accident and severely injures themselves, they go to physical therapy, and it takes time to heal, right? So why wouldn't it take me time to "move on."
I lost the biggest part of me.
Just as an injured person learns to walk, I am learning to accept my new life and move forward. Just like the wounded, it hurts, and sometimes I fall while learning to walk. Sometimes I feel like I can run- and then I fall flat on my face and scrape my face on the cement.
"It's time to move on- time to let go."
I'm trying. I really am. Every day is a new challenge. I don't know what the day brings until it comes. Today I realized that this month I will have outlived my husband. No matter how much I age and grow up- he will always be 26. A baby. I'll never get to see him wrinkle, or his hair recede. I know, I know, I need to let go and move on already. I am told at least once a day now. After all, it has already been fourteen months. Why can't I just get over this? I'm so young, and I'll find love again, and I want to have a family don't I? Yes, I do. Yes, yes... I did.
It's a slow process, a process of dying to yourself, letting your dreams die with you, realizing that your life will never be the same again- and that person who you loved more than life itself will never be there again to walk this path with you. And it hurts. It hurts so bad. You know, I don't know if I'll ever find love again. I don't know if someone can accept my life, my past, and what I have been through. As President Bush told me, "You're going to have a hard time finding another husband." Thank you, thank you Mr. President. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be. I have found true love, and I have experienced it, and I have lost it. All by the age of 25.
When Chris died, I died. I am not the same person I was on September 8, 2011. I have always been an old soul, and now I don't even know what I am- but I had to do a lot of things that I never thought I would have to do before I was even a quarter of a century old.
God is slowing breathing life back into me, and I have emerged as a new person. You know, something changes in you, something is so different in your heart, in your soul and in your spirit when you lose what was once most important to you. When I lost Chris, I was cut in half, losing the biggest and best part of me. Now I am learning to be a whole person on my own. It's scary, it's hard, it's torturous. There comes a time when you realize your life is never going to be the same again, and as much as I love my little life in Tulsa, I have to move forward, I have to start my own life, and create my future. As painful as it is, Chris is never coming home and will never be part of my life again. I'm really not looking for compassion here, that's not why I am saying this, but I want you to know- you have NO idea how hard this is. How hard it is to let go of your love, your future, your hopes, your dreams, and your normal. Your security. But I have to. I have no choice. Life is going on whether I like it or not. As it moves on I have to make the choice to move with it or live back in time. Clinging on to the love and life that I had while slowing watching it fade and slip away in the distance.
Each and every time I let go of something of his- I let go of a part of me. I can physically feel it. I dread cleaning out his side of the closet, getting rid of his treasures that I can't hold onto anymore. Our house is haunting me. I see him everywhere. It is time to "move on." I just don't know how. I feel like I'm in purgatory waiting for the next step of my life- waiting for God to show me what he wants for me. A new life, a new love, a new future. I can't tell you how hard this is. But I have to do it. I'm trying, and I am moving forward. It's not easy, but I'm giving it all I've got. Each and every day I have to make a conscious decision to do so. It never comes easy- because it's not.
I often tell people that I feel like I'm fifty. It is rare I can relate to people my age. A lot of them are still "finding out who they are"- when I have had to do that twice. I feel like I have lived two lifetimes. I have faced my worst fear- and I have made it through. I can honestly say I am not afraid of anything. What do I have to be afraid of? Having nothing to lose is a powerful thing. I am thankful I know what life is worth- the cost of sacrifice, the greatness of love, and the brevity of life. It's all I think about. Life is so short and so fleeting- too short to live in a world that is not here anymore, and will never be. Too short to not do the right thing and stand up for what you believe in. That is why I vow to make the most of my life and make sure I move ahead as my "new" life I have worked so hard for falls into place. Just like a wounded person- if I run before I am healed- it could cause worse damage and have negative effects on the rest of my life- because I wasn't willing to wait until I'm healed. Just like physical therapy, my healing is never fun, it's long, it's torturous, it's forcing myself to do what I don't want to do. Every single day. After much training, I think it's about time to run my marathon. Just waiting for the right race.
Woke up late today and I still feel the sting of the pain
But I brushed my teeth anyway
I got dressed through the mess and put a smile on my face
I got a little bit stronger
Riding in the car to work and I'm trying to ignore the hurt
So I turned on the radio,
song made me think of you
I know my heart will never be the same
Even on my weakest days
I get a little bit stronger