This is a story about moving on and healing.
You wake up to the sound of rain beating against your windows.
It’s that familiar place you thought you would never have to revisit. Emptiness. Loneliness. Being told “no”. The setbacks on repeat in your thoughts.
Your bed is a warm, safe sanctuary, and leaving it to face the cold morning seems almost impossible. If you could stay there, maybe it wouldn’t be real. If you would just go back to sleep, maybe your dreams and hopes could be real instead.
There are parts of you that want to give up. At least that would be an easy option, straight-forward and clean. After a blow, the simple solution seems good; because your head is a mess, you feel tempted to take back control by seizing to try.
No. You’ve come way too far to ever give up on yourself, and of course, you know that.
You’re also smart enough to know that it’s okay to have bad thoughts, as long as you don’t let them consume you. It’s okay, you’re okay, just need a few days to recover and forgive yourself.
Eventually, you climb out of your bed, dusting yourself off.
The days pass just like they did before. News stories from around the world continue to baffle you, but time passes by faster than you thought possible.
You start to feel better. Writing is the best therapy you can find to begin moving on and healing, and so is going for long walks in nature. Don’t let yourself be alone too much, though.
It becomes clearer that if you want to heal, and you’re doing the right things, eventually you will. Slowly, you feel it happening. Maybe not every day, but often enough to give you hope.
You’re still here. You still have all these lovely people around you, and you still love the little things, like that first cup of coffee in the morning, or curling up with a book at night.
You look around and realize that there are plenty of good people out there and that, if you want to, you can be one of them.
You’re not afraid of the unexpected like before. In the spur of the moment, you throw on your sneakers to go climbing up the hill a few hundred meters from your house.
You get to the top, sweaty and breathless, and in that moment there is no thought, just a stunning view to take in. This moment is everything.
From that day onwards you recognize the shift that has happened in you: you have begun the process of moving on and healing.
You smile wider than you used to, you laugh harder. The disappointment you experienced has made you feel deeper than before, it has taught you compassion and appreciation for things you took for granted.
Getting hurt is a gift. Being sad, disappointed, let down – just being alive – is a gift. At least you’ve wanted something with every fiber in your body. At least you tried. At least you still have yourself, even if it’s a lonely place sometimes.
You have new stories to tell, and they really mean something. Old songs take on new meanings. An additional layer has grown inside you, and the change is good.
The thing that you wanted gets more distant every day. Soon, it’s just a memory.
You don’t need revenge anymore, in fact, you don’t need to prove anything.
Who knows, you might even be learning new facts that put your experiences in a different light. Maybe you’re just realizing what you couldn’t before. Either way, it makes you grateful that everything panned out the way it did. You might start to feel that you wouldn’t want to go back and change it if you could.
I hope you have gotten to this point.
This is when you’ve come out of it all, and your heart is still open. You’re still ready to trust in people, you’re still willing to take risks.
Because the worst thing in the world, the one thing you should always avoid, is being frozen in place. It’s letting the fear win. It’s when you’ve given up, which was the easy choice, but it destroyed you and left an empty shell.
Choosing to be alive means never knowing what you’re gonna get. You can only try.
Moving on and healing is a long, hard road. It’s worth it.
“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”