Mystery Boxes

Hi, everyone.

If you’ve been reading my blog for some time, you’ll know 1 – I got out of a relationship a year ago, 2 – I sold my house that had everything of hers in it, 3 – I bought a new house.

Doesn’t sound crazy. Nothing unique. Ordinary shit, I know. But today I realized how difficult it really is to separate from someone fully, even if you haven’t talked to them in months. I mean, maybe it isn’t even possible. Yet to find out. Example? I went through my last boxes to unpack in the basement this morning. Two letters from her. Saw the handwriting, saw the name, ripped them up. Shoved them deep into a trash can and now I’m hoping I don’t think about those letters today.

Welp, I failed but I at least made it about 30 minutes till failure. Look what I’m writing about. The letters. Shit.

Maybe I shouldn’t worry too much about this. This is a natural progression into a new life, a new me, a new everything. It’s exciting going at it alone (well, not entirely alone, I do have a wonderful support system–get one, they’re helpful). But today I’m proud of one thing: I didn’t lose my damn mind over this. Instead, I disposed of the letters and moved on to the next box. A few months back? I would have stopped right there. Went to my bed. Laid down. Got a bit high. Try to fall asleep. Try to forget.

Now? Well, here I am, writing to you about it. I call that growth. If your read my post from… yesterday? Well, we could call this ordinary courage. Have you made small progressions you haven’t yet noticed? I bet you have. I didn’t notice this till it slapped me in my face. Go ahead, take a look in the mirror. I bet you’re better today than you were yesterday, and if not, you’re on your way. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be up reading this. You’d be in the fetal position in your bed, wondering what the fuck to do next. I’ve been there. A lot of individuals have been there. Keep motherfuckin’ pushing. It’s worth it. I promise. I wouldn’t be telling you this shit every single post if I didn’t believe it to be true myself. You. Can. Do. This. Shit.

And if you’re in the fetal position in your bed while reading this, please know that we’re here for you.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

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