A Day

It’s 5:00 AM. “Crap, I didn’t hear my alarm go off at 3:30! Wait did it even go off?” Anyway, it’s time for me to get up and get moving. I do a pep talk to myself early in the morning to motivate me to drag myself out of bed. I know before I even look in the mirror that my eyes will tell the story of my restless night. No matter what I try, the story always seems to end up with the same unhappy ending. Me tossing and turning throughout the night; desiring sleep—taking melatonin and prescription sleeping pills, but still no consistent sleep. I fall asleep without a problem, only to awaken at midnight or 1:00 AM and then I’m trying to fall back asleep. My eyes laden with dark circles and puffiness tell this story all too well. Anti-puffiness serums, coffee, under the eye cold packs and make up have all lied, as they don’t help to conceal my secret. Knowing this story is the same as any other day, I get out of bed and start the day off as usual; convincing myself that I am going to get through the day and it is going to be a great day. So into the journey of my day, as a teacher, I progress. I can pretty much picture how it is going to go before actually even stepping foot into its existence. I feel pretty good today, I must say. I am prepared. I am ready to take on my day! My healthy lunch is ready and I am well on my way to a productive day. I also get to see my son early this morning, so that makes my day a lot brighter.

6:30 AM rolls around “You up” summons my son.

“Yup, and headed that way," I reply. I head out the door with my workout clothes, with four healthy meals which are a part of my meal prep and of course my coffee. Anyone who knows me, knows this woman has to have her cups of morning function. I have already set out to conquer this day. Why wouldn’t I? I have already mapped it out; I know what it’s going to consist of: Taking care of what I need to do at work and then heading to the gym after work. My day continues to progress as I expect it to. I take and get my son to where he needs to go.

We come to the stop light and I realize where we are. “Got dogit!” I blurted out in frustration at myself.

“What?” My son asks. I have avoided this piece of road ever since that day, is what I thought in my head; Avoided passing by the place it all happened. After my son suggested we take an alternate route, I declined and progressed down the road. I needed to know if it still affected me as much as it did before. I had managed to avoid that place for as long as I could.

“Man up and just do it. It’s been two years and you have been doing great," is what I told myself. So, on I went passing by. The cross, which was a constant reminder that something tragic had happened there, still existed. The grass, now green, and the tree that was struck, now healed and beautifully adorned with leaves wrapping down where the bark was once removed and mangled pieces of car lay at it side; Scattered with belongings to me, him, us, laying covered in the grass. None of those remained just beauty and healing. For me, I realized that was not what remained as I passed “that” place.

Instantly, I was reminded of everything that, “that” meant to me. I immediately became numb again. My mind began to replay how it all went down; my reaction and the events that transpired in my life afterwards flashed through my mind. I clearly have not finished processing this. What is “this”? Hell, I don’t know! I am still trying to figure it out and sure as hell tired of going through it! I just want it to be over!!! I realized in that moment that I knew what a piece of the “this” is. I am mad as hell! Why? Why do I have to go through this? Why did you have to leave me? We were just getting our life started; we had so much to do. I realized a piece of me is angry at Daniel for leaving me; leaving me to figure it out alone. For breaking my heart, even if it was unintended. I was angry at the one person who saw me and all my quirks, and loved every piece of me and them; The man who loved me with no make-up on and my curly hair all over my head. The one person who was willing to put his fears of failed love down, past hurt and disappointments for me, gone. Every piece of me wanted to scream, instead I gripped the steering wheel as tight as I could and sobbed. Every fiber of my being wanted to violently hit and scream as loud as my vocal ability would allow; even if it hurt. I don’t think the hurt of my voice could hurt more than the hole that has been created in my heart, my life.

Immediately my whole mood changed. I just wanted to crawl in bed and be, to be held. The feeling of nothing quickly succumbed me. I felt as if I was in a scary movie running down a hallway that never ended; as if I was running in place and going nowhere. The heavy feeling, and sorrow is all I felt; two years later. I thought I was over this. Clearly not. All of a sudden. Is this what loss is like? A rollercoaster? Ups and downs? One moment I was existing in this new life, the next taken back two years ago. Wait—taken back? No, rather I am living this every day. A constant reminder of all the things that once made me happy and mad, replaced with loneliness, emptiness and putting the pieces together alone.

It's days like this that make me afraid to start over again. To have it all stripped away just when it is getting good. In spite of all the fear, hurt and emptiness I still manage to push through, even when it hurts. When I don’t want to smile, put on make-up or be around the world. I continue to push. One day this road will be a different one. For now I travel it, bags and all.