I've been trying to understand forgiveness. I know that my ex-husband didn't experience family like I did. That may be why he has such a different definition for honesty and commitment. I not only am striving to forgive his actions, but am also striving to forgive myself. Why didn't I see it coming? Why did it knock me down so hard?
With forgiveness, can one's heart still ache every once and a while? How long can one be cautious and find it difficult to trust? Can one miss what once was?
I gave my all: love, laughter, sweat, dedication and tears. It was all dedicated to forever -- or, at least, the rest of my life here on this planet.
Have you stretched those wings while your sad, sad heart seemed to be tearing at your sternum? It's damn hard to fly when that's going on. Somehow, however, I was able to flutter out of my shattered home. I fluttered right over the hill to feather a nest for transition, a place to begin sorting it alllllll out.
Now that 16 - 17 months have gone by, involving a lot of soul searching and nights curled up in a fetal ball, my sternum is allowing my wings to lift me up and I'm just about ready to take off and really fly. Before doing so, however, I need to say good-bye. Therefore, I've been sorting pictures, memories. I am learning to treasure those past grins and giggles while I mourn. While I delve into that, tears cleanse me.
My wings are getting stronger. I am about ready to soar towards that bright, spectacular horizon.
What is a home?