And that's how I sum up the last few months of my life.
I hate to minimize the pain of the loss. It was loss, it was hard, it was devastating in the beginning. There were many long, sleepless nights. Many tears were shed. Hours spent wondering what went wrong, what could I have done differently. Was something wrong with me? I wondered that constantly.
And then I began to heal. Once I began that process, life began to be in color again. Yes, I still had sad days. I didn't stop missing him overnight. I didn't stop hurting overnight. And I'm not going to pretend that it doesn't still hurt sometimes. But life has been full. I began to pour myself into the things I loved (i.e. running, hiking, yoga, friendships, focusing on myself, my health, nutrition, etc). I decided to go after the things I was putting on hold for no reason.
I hadn't realized how for months I had been living my life waiting for a boy. Waiting for him to be ready. Waiting for him to be part of my life all the time instead of part of the time. And I'm not that girl. I've never been that girl. My life is my own, yet I had allowed it to be taken over by... just waiting. I had become a shadow of who I used to be. I hate to admit that, even after the fact. And I know why I was that way. And for now, I choose to keep to myself the reasons.
While I love (I mean LOVE) the Northwest, this boy was very much a big reason (though not the only one) that I stopped travel nursing and settled down here. But in this process of losing him, I have found a home here. I love it. I never want to leave. I've re-discovered the adventurer within myself. I've made wonderful friends, people who I know will be there for me. For the first time in months, I've been truly happy. Fulfilled. Chasing my dreams. I wouldn't have it any other way. I've re-discovered myself, the woman I used to be... only a better version of it.
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