One month ago, I woke up in the middle of the night, after tossing and turning and I was sobbing. He held my hand even at the most inconvenient hours of the night. My students would greet me with hugs and drawings as I navigated through one of the toughest months of my twenty-second year. I cried more and have seen more doctors and nurses than in the past three years combined. But these are all of the things that I have learned along the way, and some of the things he has taught me.
Let people surprise you.
Accept that some people actually do give a shit and you deserve their tenderness.
Challenging your self mentally and physically need to be balanced with back rubs and salt baths.
Silence is necessary.
As is, opening up your heart and being gut wrenching honest with someone.
Giving thanks is SO important. "Thank you for listening to my music even when you hate it." "Thank you for making me laugh to drown out all of the worries at 1:20AM. "Thank you for staying." Open your lungs and heart up to the universe so that it can pour light and oxygen into your weakened body.
Allow for the rain to begin to heal your soul.
Let yourself be gutted.
Let it open you.
Tremble at your knees with your palms up praying to whatever God you believe in and beg for them to use you for something more than this moment.
You will look back at this moment and realize that this mourning and broken heart you're tip toeing around is going to change you -- it already is.
Not all of the days are meant to count sweet pea, some days are meant to be weighed.
Throwing a glass of vodka won't solve many things, in fact it won't solve anything. But sometimes it just feels good throwing it.
Drink plenty of water. More water than you think is necessary.
And sleep (reminder to self time and time again).
Call people crying it is okay.
And when you realize you should apologize at 11:20 at night, don't do it through a text. Drive back to their house.
Oh, and all that matters is how you rebuild.