For a couple years, give or take, I worried about, planned for, and prepare for living life again.
I had grieved until I thought I would die myself.
I had done stupid. That didn’t impress me much.
At some point when I wasn’t looking, I stopped planning to live and started living again.
I have great people in my world. I have hobbies that I enjoy and hopefully, some day, I can actually make a living doing them. I am learning new things. I am stretching myself further than I ever thought I could.
I am trying new things. Things I would have never tried before.
I am not planning and preparing any more. I am living. It is great.
Somehow, when I wasn’t looking life said it is okay for you to live again, to laugh again, to love again. That one right there is a biggie. I never thought I could love again. Something in me wanted me to feel like it is wrong. It isn’t wrong. It is oh so very right.
I love differently now; different chapters, different men, different loves.
Yeah, I’m really, really okay with living again.
Peace and Blessings on any who haven’t learned to live again. It will come and you may never see it sneaking up on you.