2 months and 11 days later. I'm alive. The morning has found me. Had you asked me that amount of time ago and I would have had no idea how I could get this far. I still don't quite understand what happened so many weeks ago, and when I think about my trip I still associate it with the break-up, but I'm slowly, very slowly, trying to get past that.
I've holed myself up in the library between classes to write and I'm sitting here staring out the window into the gorgeous day trying again to feel. I can see beauty and hold beauty (in the weight of a 7 month old, blue-eyed boy) yet I can't feel it. The only thing I still feel right now is my brokenness. I was listening to Daughtry's "Over You" on the car ride here today and I want so badly to feel that passionate about him. I know I'm moving forward and moving on, but I'm angry and bitter and having a hard time feeling everything else. It's so hard, especially in my faith, because I know God is present and He is working and moving, and the world is alive, but I just don't feel anything anymore. Not sadness, not joy, not happiness, not excitement (ok, sometimes I do feel all the good things) but sometimes I just don't feel anything. I just seem numb. I move through life thinking that the next day is going to be better, and oftentimes it is, but I'm so used to being an emotional person this nothingness is hard.
I know I'm moving on because I have determination and perseverance and I refuse to let him take anything, especially my future, from me. But, the old adage about a broken heart is beyond truthful. I have been shattered and I do not know how to get these pieces put back together.
I am not depressed but I am not totally happy either. I'm just in between. I'm alive but I want to feel again. I so badly want to feel again.
A blanket of leaves obscures my heart. I am unwhole.
No comments:
Post a Comment