Today, it is a beautiful, breezy, clear, cool spring day. Absolutely gorgeous outside. The kind of day that, two months ago, would have made me want to twirl around, arms outstretched and face upturned, heart swelling with joy.
One of the ladies I work with, a really lovely woman with a special heart for students, took me to lunch at a delightful little French cafe today. We sat outside in the shade, ate crepes and eggs Benedict, drank tea and watched tiny little sparrows hop around in the dirt. It was, for lack of any more perfect word, lovely.
So even though my heart didn't swell with joy today, I am so thankful. And I feel so blessed. For the first time in a long while, I actually remembered what joy feels like- my heart has been so heavy with sorrow that for a while, I forgot what it's like to feel joy. But as I sat at our table at lunch, I knew I would feel it again. Soon.
Today was a huge step for me - for the first time, I was able to discuss my breakup and the loss of the first love of my life without feeling grief, without feeling anger, without feeling confusion. There is a wistfulness, to be sure, a longing, as there always is when you must let go of something that once was beautiful but now is dead. I think I'm finally starting to move out of the season of sharp, intense pain, anger, and grief and into a season where wistful smiles replace tears, where careful curiosity of what is to come replaces the gripping terror of facing an uncertain future.
I'm slowly, steadily making my way out of this dark, tangled, scary forest into a clearing. A clearing where I can breathe again, where I can re-acclimate and become myself again before turning about myself, making a decision, and moving forward down the next path into something new.