It’s not easy being vulnerable.  It felt like I couldn’t breathe it all in, the sadness.  As I was laying in bed last night, I silently cried over mom.  It’s getting easier and I’m getting easier and she’s getting easier, but her memories still hurt me to tears sometimes.  It just is what it is.  I’m not ignoring it anymore and that’s important.  In January it will be two years and I’ve ignored her for awhile, but the thing is, I just can’t do that anymore.  I know I’ve said all this before but maybe I’m saying it for myself too.  I have to remind myself to breathe.  To live.  To take it in.  Breathe it out.  It’s going to be okay.   He held me last night as I drifted off to sleep.  He understands the closeness to what I’ve lost because he’s lost too.  He knows who I am and I don’t have to hide anything.   Nothing replaces a feeling like that…

It’s not easy letting go but the thing is, I want to let go.  How does one physically and mentally do that?  Does it take time?  Do I just say I’m letting this go and it shall be done?  There’s a lot I hold in and I never try to.  It just stays.  I never talk about it or think on it unless someone brings up something that might snap me back to that moment.  It’s like carrying around an disease you never knew you had.  It’s there, you never notice it, until one day it’s in your face.  How the hell did that get there?

On a good side note…I bought a truck.  I’m not a bragger or one who shows off a lot of my new things but this has been a dream of mine for years.   Being able to buy my dream truck also means I’m closer to my ultimate goal and dream.  Two years or less, I’ll be able to buy a horse trailer to hook to that beautiful truck sitting in my driveway.  This also means I’ll be working in a clinic somewhere in the mountains with the possibility of buying my first house.   It’s all coming together.  The truck means more than just a truck for me.  It means my future is on it’s way.  I’m making sure I live my dream.  I refuse to give up.  I’m making life play my music and not the other way around.  It’s a hard path, but we all know that the path less traveled is a good journey.  Knowing all of this has really lightened up my soul.  I don’t ever remember of wanting to do anything else but work with horses.  There have been stories of me as a baby when I  could barely walk and yet I walked to get to the horses at the parades and shows the family took me to.  I guess I was just born with it haha

I’m craving soup.

 

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