I turned an invisible corner this week.
Where I've been pressed hard into an immovable wall of grief for the last month, something has finally loosened a bit. Part of it is a new job I am contemplating, wondering if I can truly be happy in a standard 9 to 5 gig that has nothing to do with my own dreams. It would mean the emotional stakes are extraordinary low, but also that I would be letting a huge part of myself go. In some ways this feels like as much a tragedy as it might be a relief.
The other part was looking up and suddenly realizing that it's almost been an entire year since Alaska. A year since I came home and knew deep in my bones, but couldn't say it yet, that it was over. Almost a year since I have had sex of any kind and intimacy only under achingly close and careful watch.
How did time go by so fast?
I'm trying to figure out where I've been, what I've learned, and where I'm heading. It still all feels muddled together like a thick fog hovering over the marsh. There are very few things I am absolutely certain of these days, and so it's been like paddling a tiny life raft in a vast ocean with no land in sight to anchor to. Most of the time I'm just trying to feel all the things I need to feel... joy, anger, sadness, desire, truth, trust, my own heartbeat... and this week I felt something new. A longing to be free of the tangled mess in the past and to cut the strings that are keeping me from really soaring.
It feels like forgiveness might be close.