The decade ends in less than one week.
I’m trying to wrap my head around all of the crazy, beautiful, tragic things that have happened within the past ten years.
I lost my dad to suicide. I graduated. I moved…twice. I got engaged…then I broke it off. I met some incredible, exquisite people. Life handed me so much heartbreak and I sewed it into a big, warm blanket to wrap myself in.
I remember ending 2009 in such sadness. After losing my dad earlier in the year, I couldn’t fathom how life could get any brighter. I remember the years that followed his passing were some of the darkest I think I’ll ever have. The thought of making it another ten years wasn’t plausible. Laughable, actually.
I turned twenty-three yesterday.
I’m pleasantly surprised.
When you think there’s nothing left to give, you muster up the last minuscule amount of energy and make it happen because that’s what you’re supposed to do. You manage because your potential outweighs the demons that hinder your ability to fight.
Maybe I didn’t accomplish as much as some, but I lived.
I think that counts for something.