A Bittersweet Goodbye

*Disclaimer: this portion was written over three years ago and sat in my drafts*

I found love in the palm of her tiny hand.

I never knew the feeling of this before.

Then when a child came knocking on my door.

With hope and a beautiful smile.

I love that I'm able to go that extra mile.

She's sweet and fits into me like she's mine.

All I know now is she will never be left behind.

Wherever we go: I want her to be.

She is now one part of the whole me.

And she fits into my arm and into my life.

This girl has rocked my world and brings me light.

She is pride and she is joy.

I love the little one…

My daughter by choice.

PRESENT:

Having to grieve the loss of a relationship that results in another relationship is a lot that I was not ready for. You enter into a path of loss that wasn't necessarily anyone's fault. For over three years I became a role model, a cheerleader, a motherly figure, and best friend to a little girl. To lose that. To have to give up that connection. To not be able to maintain that for one reason or another hurts. But I still feel all of the words I wrote above. I will always love her like she was my own and nothing with me and her father will change that. She will always have a special place in my heart because she belonged there. And I hope she knows that I love her so much and I still want the world for her. And I will miss her most and still think about her often because she made me a better person. She made me a more nurturing and loving individual and unlocked parts of me I never knew existed. I was there for her but she was there in a childlike wonder that I can't explain to anyone who isn't a parent or a parental figure. The pain and loss hurts in this moment. It is knee-shaking. However, I wouldn't trade any of the moments we had for the entire world. Our time came to an end but the memories and lessons will always be there. I'm so thankful for her and hope that she remembers just how much she is loved. Because she will always be my little bug.

Life's a Tunnel and I'm NOT Digging It

Listening to heartfelt country music and sitting by myself in my apartment isn’t what I imagined. But then again, I didn’t think I would get this far. Where does this story end? I wish I could tell you. I wish I could say that it gets better every single time without fail. But I would be lying to you. Sometimes, sure, it does get better. Sometimes there is a light at the end of the tunnel. But then you get stuck. Stuck in the tunnel for years. Or you turn around because the light at the other end of the tunnel seemed to be slightly brighter than the one you were currently on. Dang. And then, once you finally make the journey to the end of the tunnel you find yourself in another tunnel. This one may be a quick one. Or it is one that will take you over three years to complete. Three years of denial and telling yourself that this tunnel was better than the last one. Because honestly? It was. It was better than the last one by a lot. You weren’t running into walls hidden within the shadows of the tunnel. There weren’t monsters creeping around waiting until you were vulnerable. No, not this time. But this time you had to give up your peanut butter and jelly because someone couldn’t handle it. You had to give up the support backpack because you were the only one helping carry the weight. Your protests to prioritize yourself were ignored. So, at the end of the tunnel it was like the beginning of it. You walked alone yet again. Except this time the baggage was a little bit heavier. Not enough to make a difference but when you carry it for years every rock matters. And you had to sacrifice. Your back never came first. You weren’t the priority. You had to shoulder it for both travelers. Which caused previous broken bones from past tunnels to get worse. There was no healing. It was simply a spiral of life, of walking, and of feeling the failures. It’s okay, though. When you consider a forever traveler, you shouldn’t have to consider outsiders making the trek with you. Who matters? Who is the priority? I’m trying to force it to be me. That’s hard when there hasn’t been any healing. That’s hard when you don’t know how to be alone. When you haven’t had to think about it for years. Sometimes that is nicer. Sometimes carrying the weight is easier than admitting you needed the break all along. I’m trying to take the break but that doesn’t make it any less hard. Well, that tunnel’s journey is done. I gave up so much to walk through it. But I’m thankful for learning. To be able to look back at the tunnel and realize what was good and bad about it. Easier to avoid the dark corners when you know exactly what the signs of them are. This last tunnel wasn’t formed enough to make it easy. It wasn’t the tunnel’s fault, but the tunnel wasn’t ready to grow. And I was. I wanted to finish the tunnel. Different places take us to different choices. And I’m going to try not to pick another tunnel quite yet. I’m not ready. Even if my loneliness says otherwise. So, this tunnel I am thankful for. All the other ones I totally could pass on! A lot of processing to do with all the tunnels. And am I ready for that? Absolutely not, but I must be. So good luck to me and good luck to anyone who must keep running into the wrong tunnels without realizing until it’s too late. You will get through it just like I did without even realizing I was done with it. Sometimes the realization is the hardest part.