Falling Apart

I can't remember now, if I already blogged this.
I had an amazing weekend with some even more amazing friends.
And I'll blog about that tomorrow.

Today, I'm reminded of how far I've come.
I mean, really come, in just the last few months.
This was written in pain.
In April.
Of this year.

And healing and grace have abounded since.
But writing is part of my healing.
Sharing is the other part.
Felt it?

EVD - thanks for asking.
But my answer to you this weekend, was strong and true.
I'm in a good space.
And I keep moving forward.

Sometimes I just sit on the floor surrounded by the broken pieces of my life. 
And I wonder how they got so broken, how come everything can look so shattered.
So tiny and insignificant.
And how in their shattered smallness, I feel so broken.
Like small pieces from a mirror I stopped looking in a long time ago.
And just "my story" holding me together.
Told so many times it's not even close to being real.
And I wonder how I got so broken.
And why I don't give myself enough credit.
And why everyone else can see it and I can't.

And does wondering all of that make me crazy?
Sometimes, I just sit on the floor surrounded by the broken pieces of me.
And I wonder how I LET myself get here.
And in that deep moment of regret or sadness or whatever that emotion is that I'm not supposed to feel - I receive the smallest bit of grace.
And it is someone I didn't expect it from.
And somewhere I didn't expect it from.
And it washes over me.
And in a calm, non racing thought kind of way, I glimpse how my life will be.
A self love.
Pieces glued back together.
And I allow myself to believe the bullshit.
"My story".
And it is in that grace that I also realize, this isn't my tomorrow.
Tomorrow looks like shattered glass.
And the day after that too.
But I can see, reflected in her grace, that it won't always.


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