My hair smells of smoke. I can't decide if I'm pissed because I JUST washed it (which I only do once a week) or if I like the lingering smell and how it makes me feel.
A few minutes ago I walked down to the riverside and lit my memories of fire. Notes of love and hope and a brighter future. Notes saying sorry, I was wrong. Notes of dreams. Years of dating, marriage, and babies. Pictures of kisses and smiles and adoration. I lit them on fire and watched them turn to ash. And even now, I still smell it.
On this night one year ago, I sat down to have a conversation. Within less than an hour, I went from being 100% committed to staying in my marriage to about 90% sure I would be leaving it. It takes my breath away, the idea that so much can change so quickly. Does it ever blow your mind when you think about "lasts?" The last time you'll kiss someone. The last Valentine's Day you'll spend together. The last time you'll send them a sexy picture. The last time you'll gaze into their eyes. The last time you'll hold their hand. The last time you'll have sex with them. How all of these lasts will happen BEFORE you realize they'll be the last...
Looking through a decade of memories felt odd in a way. Even though they were my memories, it felt like I was looking at someone else's life. Because even though it's only been 365 days, I feel like I'm almost living a different life.
One year ago was the beginning of the end. The beginning of a process that felt so long and painful and impossible I almost still can't believe I did it. How do you untangle yourself from someone after you've spent nearly ten years weaving your lives together? You pull out your garden sheers and start cutting. Painful bit by painful bit. Sometimes I was cutting myself, and sometimes I was cutting him. But eventually, we were apart. And there I was. Slashed, marred, and weak, but somehow still rooted and upright.
And now I find myself watering, tending, providing sunshine, speaking kindly to myself, and waiting for this beautiful flower I am to keep on growing. I feel my cuts healing and my roots growing stronger. Not every day, mind you. Every so often I just want to bury myself under the dirt and stay there forever. But for the most part, I'm moving upward toward that incredible, bright blue sky.
What will life look like ONE YEAR from now? Only God knows, but I think it's going to be freaking phenomenal.
