Jeans
Yesterday I wore the first pair of jeans I’ve worn in over 14 months. I couldn’t bring myself to because of all my body image issues and fears and anxieties. But I finally bought a pair that fit, and wore it with some nice heels and a beautiful shirt.
And you know what? I felt amazing.
I’ve come so far in the last year. It’s hard to admit to myself sometimes, in the midst of sadness and fear and tragedy. But I’ve come so far. And there must be some reason why I’m still here, yes? Yes.
Slowly, slowly, I’m learning to trust. Float on my back in the ocean and let it take me where it will, because I always have the power to fight back and move when I want to.
I’m so thankful for everyone who led me to this place, who held my hand through the darkness, who witnessed me at my darkest points and still loves me today. It is so likely that I wouldn’t still be here today without that.
Life is hard. The truth hurts. I still cry a lot. And I’m still afraid.
But I’m alive.
And God, I am grateful every single day for that.
I. AM. ALIVE.
It Could Have Been Me
Death feels so close all of the time. It could’ve been me. And that’s such a weird feeling. Suddenly, my heart feels jumpy, as though it could give out on me at any moment, though I know how strong it is.
Moments like this bring back all of the pain and grief of losing Nick, and I wish so much I could be there up in the stars with him. Except I don’t want to leave this earth yet. I don’t want to leave this beauty behind. I want to be able to live in both worlds, laugh and cry and swim in that deep blue purple painting.
It could’ve been me last night. It so easily could have been. And of course, I still have that small voice in the back of my head saying, “It should have been you.”
But as I grieve and respect and reflect, I remind myself to be grateful I am alive. It is a grand thing today simply to be alive, to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and breath in the fresh air.
Don’t let go. Remember those who have passed. Remember the fragility and wonder of life.
And give thanks.
For you are, for I am, still alive.
It doesn’t much matter when you have just now realized, all the time later, that you are still alive.
-John Green, Looking for Alaska
