You’re traveling from coast-to-coast. You’re spending time with people who fill you up. You’re getting Mexican food and margaritas. You’re surrounding yourself with new people. You’re feeling overly fulfilled at work and you’re being valued as such. You’re confident. You’re not afraid to be yourself. You’re meeting people who make you feel acknowledged and heard. You’re happy.
You’re. So. Freaking. Happy. And the best part, you’re living that right now.
I started writing again. Not because I should, but because I want to. But let’s be honest, I probably should. I find my life going by so slowly most days, then wake up the next day and a month has already passed by. I want things to slow down but I also can’t wait to get to the good parts, those milestone-important-parts, ya know? The days that make all other days seem so dull and mundane.
My hope is to find pure, genuine happiness in those small moments, too. Why rush somewhere, or into something, if it’ll be waiting for you? Enjoy the getting there moments, because they’re not always going to be there. Appreciate the boring days where you have nothing to do and you can take two naps on the couch. The days that fill-in between the highs and lows. Savor all interactions with loved ones, tell people you care for them, show them you love them in whatever way they will best understand and feel it. Those kind of days won’t be here forever.
I can’t wait to be spoiled. And not in the materialistic kind of way. The “I can’t wait to make you smile” kind of way, every single fucking day. It’s the simplest thing that is taken for granted but also the easiest things to get right. If you mess that up, sorry dude, but it’s game over.
It’s 11:11 and I am no longer wishing for you anymore.
I am no longer waiting for the day where you would magically be the person I thought you once were. We grew up and we grew apart in the process. I wish you knew how difficult it was for me this last year, but I’ve come to peace with the decision that I no longer want to be a burden that is constantly disturbing yours.
You left most of ‘our’ things behind, to move on with your life. While I’m stuck here picking up the broke pieces and the memories that you could easily forget in the drawers. But this home finally feels like home, again. I can breathe in all the rooms I couldn’t before, where I felt like I was suffocating and taking up too much space. I can dance, sing, laugh, cry without being told I’m being too much. I can be me, again.
Although I don’t wish for you anymore, I wish you only the best.
