Yesterday was... gruelling. Devastating. Another blow to an already shattered heart. I went early to my home, knowing that I would have a little time to grieve before I had to face what was inside the boarded up shell. I walked around my house, thinking of the 16 months I had spent here - thinking of all the amazing things I'd done, the people I'd met, the life I'd created.
This was to be my final resting place, my home. The first home I'd ever had that I could call mine. All my own. This was the place that I chose, that chose me. This was the dwelling of my heart. I felt safe in this place - for the first time in MY WHOLE LIFE, I felt safe. This was my home. Was...
And now I was cast again on the tides of fortune and chance. Blown like a leafy metaphor by the breath of circumstance. I was adrift, lost. I no longer have a home. I no longer know what is going to happen to me. I'm scared and I'm so filled with grief it chokes me. But what choice do I have but to keep walking, to keep going, to put down one foot after the other in this journey we call life.
Today I'm so numb I can't feel. So I won't. The feelings will return and I will handle them. Life will throw more crap at me and I will handle it.
But still, in all the darkness, there is a glimmer of hope. It comes with the friendships I have made and the love they generate. It comes with the distance in time between my self now and my self that was. It comes with the purr of my Tigger monster cat. It comes with each hug, each blessing, each gift I receive.