For a little bit there I could breathe again. I’ve spent the last year and a half kicking towards the surface, holding my breath and kicking like hell, trying to break the surface to exhale and then take in the most wholesome, glorious breath. I finally breathed in life again and for the first time in a long time I felt normal again. I didn’t feel like the sad widow. I felt like the beautiful woman who was dating a guy who was crazy about her. I felt confident and more like myself than I have in a long time.
It’s exhausting to always be fighting to persevere, to keep juggling all the balls in the air, trying not to let any of them fall, trying to maintain this life as a strong woman when I really just want to fall into my man’s arms at night and let down my guard. For a little while I had that and I could breathe easy again. I guess I should be thankful for that. For the short break that I had, the life rope that was thrown my way. But right now as I look at my tear stained face in the mirror, my hair a mess and my lips stained with red wine, in my yoga pants and my workout shirt that says “enjoy every moment” I’m finding it hard to be thankful. I’m laughing at God’s sense of humor and the irony of my choice of clothing tonight. I didn’t expect a grief wave to hit me like this when I grabbed my night clothes from the edge of the bathtub where they had been laid the night before.
You know life is funny. You think you have it all and the rug gets ripped out from under you. You think you don’t deserve it and it’s given to you on a silver platter. You think you can’t survive and yet you keep on breathing. You think you’ll never love again and yet you do. You think nothing can hurt as bad as burying your loved one but then you’re left alone by choice and that hurts just as bad whether you want to admit it or not. I don’t know what the meaning or the message is, I’m still trying to figure that out. I wish I knew. I guess there are just some questions that can’t be answered this side of heaven.
I suppose I’ll keep on keepin on. I’ll keep writing letters to heaven and holding my breath for the next time I break the surface again. One of these days I’ll make it to the beach and then I’ll walk happily, the sun shining on my face again. One of these days I’ll breathe in the sweet smell of the sea salt air and the sunkissed flowers and look back at the vast ocean I swam across and be thankful for the journey. One of these days I’ll dance in the sun. One of these days. I’m holding my breathe and kicking like hell until then.
