Where I'm at Now

It's been a while.

I received a couple comments on an old post this week from people checking in and asking if I'm ok. First of all, that was beyond flattering, so thank you for that. Secondly, this really caused me to reflect on how I've been and why I stopped writing.

Since I've always used this blog as a place to expose the unfiltered truth, regardless of how uncomfortable it may be, I owe it to myself to stick with that commitment.
The truth is, back in May I fell in love.

Falling in love again was exciting, terrifying, and confusing all at once. I knew the moment it happened that it felt right and that I shouldn't feel guilty about it, probably because I knew Blake had a hand in putting me in that position. But just because it felt natural didn't mean I wasn't scared. I was scared shitless. More than I admitted to him, more than I admitted to myself. When you've held onto something so long and with such conviction, unclasping your hands feels like you're letting go of something that was as much a part of you as the fingers that clutched it.

But I let go.
And the best part about it was that I let go because I truly wanted and was ready to, not because I felt pressured into it.

On the anniversary of Blake's death I buried the blue heart ring with him at his grave along with a note explaining why I wouldn't be wearing it anymore. Not because I didn't want to wear a constant reminder of him, but because I didn't need to. It was a symbolic gesture to show that I was finally ok. That I was whole and able to live my life again. I knew he would except the gift with a smile, because it was what he wanted.

There were times that I wanted to write about this process, but I didn't for two main reasons:
1) I wanted to preserve this blog as the journey that it was: the first year after tragically losing a man that I loved with my entire heart.
2) I wanted to respect the privacy of the new relationship and man in my life

And although I have no idea how this love will evolve over time or where it will take me, I do know that Blake is always rooting for my happiness. I've settled into a healthy relationship with his spirit, not overly reliant on his support, but connected enough to know he's still always looking out for me. I feel better than I ever have in my life and I owe it all to the path I had to travel to get to this point.

Closer to Heaven (A Poem)

I’m a mile high
Closer to heaven 
Carried above clouds
By a silver bird’s wings 
The air here is thinner
But your presence stronger
Covered in your tingles 
Like the warmth a blanket brings
Please wrap me up
It’s been cold without you
Stolen by the sky
Mourned by the ground
We’ll share these two hours
If only in Spirit
Flying together through the night
Until the wheels touch down

Moon and Stars

The distance between earth and heaven is a heart beat. I close my eyes and in one palpitation I can feel you all around me. You cover my body in a sensation that can only be described as love. But there is something different in the way your spirit tingles my skin now. It’s no longer the brush of a familiar hand, intimately acquainted. Instead of increasing my heart rate to the alarming speed of lust, you steady it. You wrap me in a new kind of love that is comforting, peaceful, and safe.

And while I have you here, inexplicably close without a shred of evidence to prove it, I speak to you. I speak to you in words that have no syllables, no letters. I ask for a million things: guidance, protection, insight, clarity... anything that I'm struggling to find for myself. But as the list of wordless prayers stretches on, it melts into the warm buzz of your love. And I am silent.

My heart reminds me that there's nothing I need from you now that I can't provide for myself. This exercise in connecting heaven and earth is just my mind's way of checking that you're still here. And you are. But you're no longer my moon or my stars. You're not even the subtle glow of a night sky cloaked in clouds. 

But I'm not saddened by this. My heart rejects my brain trying to process this as a bad thing. Because even if my sky is dark, it means that it still needs to be. Maybe the black of night is my reminder that the only guiding light I need is the one that burns inside of me. A fiery golden flame that's invisible when spending all of my time looking up.

So I search inside of myself while I feel your blanket of love lift from my skin. I don't mourn you leaving because I know the distance between earth and heaven is just a heart beat. That if I am ever mixed up, searching with my head in the sky, I can close my eyes and you'll come to me. No longer as my moon and  my stars, but as a gentle reminder that everything I need has been in me all along.