When things lie in ruin you only have one choice: Accept the transformation.
It’s not only the destruction that’s part of a complete transformation that’s confusing and scary, the part, the part that’s born out of the destruction can be equally or more scary.
A tsunami swept through my life, my emotional life I mean. It’s self-indulgent to talk about. Most people go through break-ups and survive. Not all are emotionally affected at a deep level, some are. I feel like I’ve just been pulled out of the shadows and I’m standing naked in day light. The light is forcing my eyes shut; I’m blinded by it. I can’t see for shit where it is I’m supposed to be heading and I certainly can’t figure out where it is I’m supposed to be heading. I don’t even know what’s left of me. I’m in ruins.
I’m accepting the transformation. I have no other choice. I’m a control freak and now things are completely out of control. I plan for everything. There’s nothing to plan for now. Every single plan I had went out the window and I spent the whole weekend grieving not the relationship but my own ruined self. My heart is broken, it’s cracked wide open but oddly enough what I would have expected to find when it finally broke wasn’t there.
On the outside lives sadness and despair. On the inside the light is bright and golden.
I can’t speed this up; I have to roll with it. It’s hard. I like to take, and I’m used to taking, control. I like to lay out a course and head in that direction. I have no idea where the hell I’m going this time. One thing seems different this time though; I have faith. Somewhere deep inside there’s a tiny bit of hope stubbornly keeping itself alive and out of that faith is born. Somewhere deep inside there’s a deep knowing that things are OK. No one has died, no one is dying, least of all I.
I feel pain. I have cried an ocean this weekend in between stubbornly attacking the garden like there’s no tomorrow. It all just had to be cut back and trimmed down. It had to look neat. I had to be cared for. It had to be loved. It just had to. My arms are sore. My shoulders ache. I still feel like crying.
And I go all cliché on my own arse. I was a caterpillar and I was “happy” being a caterpillar. When I stepped out into the blinding light I stepped out as a butterfly and I’m just drying my wings is all. I’ll fly soon. For the first time in my life I’ll fly. I just got to have faith, that’s all.
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