And so we begin, again…
I made you more desirable, and in my light shined this illusion of you.
— F. Renee Hamilton
I had visions of making love by the fireplace, spending endless nights creating memories, laughter, more love-making and eventually announcing that us two would become one. I had not anticipated this year not ending the same way as it began, and as such depression took a hold of me. The suddenness of separation is as hard to deal with as any unexpected loss… shock, denial, anger and hopefully sooner than later acceptance. It brought me to a fork in the road, one direction led me further down the rabbit hole of missing us, the other direction looked vastly unfamiliar, challenging even. I admit I wandered down the most navigable path at first. I allowed myself to wallow in the misery of rejection, I lost sight of who I was, and played martyr to my own internal suffering. It’s always the easiest route for me to take. Instead of forcing myself to see reality, read the signs that surely had to have been there, it was just easier to bask in it. And too much basking can lead to bitterness…
Amidst countless nights of no sleep reaching out for someone who was no longer there, enduring the emptiness, questioning my worth and validity, I opened my eyes and realized that this all was indeed real and I needed to move forward. It was either move forward or completely fade away into the abyss, and fortunately my family and friends refused to allow that to happen. So many stood in when I felt myself falling, strangers even refusing to let me continue to hold on to the hurt. Words of affirmation flowed from different directions, you are better than this, you deserve better. So much affirmation that I was forced to believe it. I had to get up. I had to push forward.
I had to create.
The turning point of my year came in what I believed to be my darkest hour. I thought to myself, how can I even consider any good coming out of this year after this major loss? I saw no hope, so I just wrote. I kept writing until I realized that the words on those pages represented so much more than just a few sentences put together for the hell of it. One of my resolutions from last year was to actually take my writing more seriously and attend a writing conference. I passed on the opportunity to go to an event in Brooklyn, NY earlier in the year due to my changing jobs and not wanting to be apart from him for too long. Then later in the year I learned of another retreat in October. I wanted to go but I also knew there was an event he had been planning for months that had been postponed until October. I wanted to be there to show support, surely I couldn’t leave the city selfishly like that, and so the internal debate began. Gratefully by whatever forces that be, the decision was made for me. We were no longer one, and I had to move forward on my own.
I boarded the flight to North Carolina not really expecting anything. I was in too fragile of a state to let my head be clouded with ambitions. I just knew I needed to leave the city and remove myself from the place the pain radiated from. By the time we deplaned and I headed to the Bed & Breakfast where the retreat was held I instantly felt lighter. I could exist without the anxiety and actually think through the pain. Not only did the hosts of the retreat give me immeasurable assistance, they also spoke life into me and listened to my problems and pretty much took it upon themselves to singlehandedly lift me from the abyss. I don’t know if they even realize it but their words gave me power. In turn that power gave me the confidence to share my words with them. Ultimately I would leave North Carolina as a signed writer with Swiner Publishing Co.
Things went full speed as soon as I returned to the city. I’ve been writing for so long that I had hundreds of pieces I had written over the years. I wanted to give a good introduction to my writing style and how I see the world more so than anything. Thus “An Ode” was finally conceived. Weeks of revisions, emails, editing and worrying followed… Then I finally realized that one of my life dreams was more than becoming a reality. It was real and it was right now.
Albeit I still have moments where I miss his presence, I went above and beyond any announcement or accomplishment I could have anticipated. Today I held a physical copy of my book in my hands. My book, that I wrote. I held a copy of my book, and I cried. Tears of joy, tears of disbelief, tears of gratitude, but mainly just tears of pure exhaustion. In my darkest hours my greatest work was completed. I gave birth to something so much bigger than me because “An Ode” is a movement. An Ode is a release, permission to feel and understanding that the thoughts that haunt us all at night-time are as normal and meaningless as a crack on the sidewalk.
I decided to finally start writing on a different platform separate from my own personal blog, change begets change. I want to reach new audiences, I want people to understand that feelings are okay, heartbreak is sometimes necessary, but to never get discouraged because He always has some tricks up his sleeves to confirm we are on the right path.
In this blog, I will chronicle this new journey in life. The ups and downs, and how I am transitioning while embracing the new title of Author. I’ll share pieces of my work, photos and progress reports. I will also continue to build a safe space online for people to frequent for reassurance and affirmation that sometimes the most beautiful creations can come from the ugliest betrayal. I look forward to you all joining me on this new journey and encourage you to consider my healing process as inspiration for your own.
This is #AnOde to never forgetting that God has greater plans for you. Settling is never an option and rejection can sometimes lead to your biggest break and breakthrough.