Life Is A Strange Thing

Life is a strange thing.

It is beautiful in all dimensions.

I moved to New York City a year ago. I was in a funny place, a place that isn’t actually funny until you’re out of it. I was lost and trying to distract myself with the bright lights and busy streets. It worked for a little bit, and then life got really funny… it was difficult for me to be myself. For any of you that know me, that is an odd thing. I lived with my sister, and she worried about me everyday. I hid my sadness behind my laughter and she was the only one that could see it.  I was blind to it. I had absolutely no idea.

You see, what happened to me was something that shouldn’t happen to anybody.

The thing with it though, the thing that I hate the most, is that it is something that happens all the time. It is something that happens to so many people. My soulmate, my favorite everything, my best friend, was taken away from this world and from me.

I was afraid of life without her, because I knew that together we had it all.

After she passed away, there was never really a time where I was truly depressed. Everyday, I woke up and couldn’t believe how lucky I was. I couldn’t believe what I had. I was the luckiest person to have ever lived. I was certain of this.

The problem was, I was stuck there. I was able to accept her death, because our life was beautiful up until that point. Beautiful in the most perfect way. We leaped over the speed bumps that life threw at us and smiled the entire time, it was almost like we were chasing after the sun in a hurricane. Our life was beautiful to the extent that I was okay with the idea of dying. I knew that up until that moment when she took her last breathes, that if mine were to fall shortly behind, I would have been happy with the life that I lived. Every moment was true, every adventure was daring, and every night our spirits danced under the moon. It was a beautiful thing.

Then, after she left, life was calm.

I was in the eye of the storm.

Everyday, I woke up and I was okay. Everyday, I did this and that. And everyday, I looked up at the sun and I smiled. I smiled because I knew it was beautiful, and I knew that the world around me was beautiful. I smiled, because I felt my best friend around me with every step that I took.

Everyday, I woke up, and I was alright.

But, I wasn’t chasing the sun.

I’m not usually one for the “should have’s” but there was a moment a little while back that should have been one of those uplifting ones. It should have been one that I liked to remember. And, well, it wasn’t. It was a moment though, that in a way, could be looked at as a beautiful one…It was a moment of realization. Something snapped inside of me and I realized I was in the wrong spot. I realized it was time for a change.

Life didn’t get better that instant. In fact, the next month or so were probably the hardest because I had forced myself to see my sadness and their roots. I forced myself to find explanations to even the most simple actions.

And, it worked.

My smile, that thank goodness never actually faded entirely, started to become truer again.

I knew that my life had some messes, and I knew that I surely did too.

But, I also knew that life would be pretty boring without them…

I opened my heart up to the world that I was in, rather than focusing it solely on my past.

It was so nice seeing that way again… being free and open to everything.

I looked at people differently again, I saw them and I saw their stories written behind their eyes. I could connect with people as myself and be able to share my love with them.

A few months ago, I saw the morning light coming in through the doors in my bedroom a bit differently than I usually had. It was bright and I got to watch as the dust particles danced in the air surrounding me.

I stayed in that moment a bit longer than one might normally expect.

It wasn’t anything significant though, I’m not even sure what day of the week it was. Or what time it was, except that it was morning.

But, I do remember that it was nice and that my mind was relaxed. I think I might have even sighed as my breathes managed to fill my diaphragm without being forced by a deep breathe.

It was nice, knowing that I was breathing so peacefully in one of the busiest cities in the world.

It was nice, knowing that I was okay… that I was happy…. that I was in love.

I was in love with my life.

I was in love with the stars and the moon.

I was in love with my surroundings.

I was in love with a new soul.

And it was beautiful.

My favorite thing about all of this though, is that it is still beautiful now. In fact, it is more beautiful. Each day, I find myself giving more to the world and taking more in. I laugh sometimes, for no apparent reason except that I have too much happiness in me that it needs to escape. Of course, sometimes, I am sad. But, I am finding even the sadness is beautiful to me, because I am feeling. And feeling is such a nice thing.

I guess there isn’t much point to this story, other than it brings me to my now.

Oh, life is such a strange thing.

But, me oh my, it is beautiful in all of it’s dimensions.



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