two years. four months. nineteen days.

i remember the day life ended. it wasn't as ceremonious or scary as one would believe. it felt like any other day--i fed the dog, locked the door, and at 8 am left home in the direction of newport news. i had just enough money to buy gas to get me back to buffalo--if i forewent any food along the way. i had no where to stay and no possessions to my name except for the two rubbermaid containers in my backseat. those rubbermaid containers stayed in my backseat for almost a month because in some alternate universe there was something i could do to reverse everything. my family and friends were courtesy enough to not mention that i seemed to be home for more than a visit as the weekend turned into a long weekend turned into weeks, months and finally years.

the thing that still stings me most about this time period is what a fucking liar i was. "i'm totally fine." "it was never right." "we all saw this coming." "can't wait to move on." but here's the thing that people don't tell you--no matter how many activities you put in your schedule, no matter how many times you refill your wine glass, no matter how many lies you make up for others, you cannot lie to yourself. we've all been through these types of endings. we've all told ourselves these lies. but i have friends going through life changing events right now and i'm writing this to tell you, when your whole life changes no matter the catalyst, it is a hell of a lot easier to go through it with people than to try to cover it. there is no shame in pain, in tears, in irrational rants where you perhaps disclose an almost too detailed account of how you will kill the people who brought this pain to you.

the worst part of life ending is that people have all these expectations for you. apparently there is a time frame in which everything is supposed to be tied up into a little box and walked away from. they'll tell you it's when papers are signed. they'll tell you it's once you have a job again. they'll tell you it's when all the flowers from the funeral have died. they'll tell you it's once you've climbed out of debt. the judger is allowed to have a whole airport full of baggage, but you, my friend, must be clear of heartache and drama. as i talk to my friends who aren't through their storm yet, i have realized that talking about my life-altering experience to help them has made it worth it all and has been therapeutic. but there's one thing i have yet to really admit to myself. so here's the biggest, hardest confession that i will ever make: i feel like i just got my life back two weeks ago.

everyone gets to choose their own bench marker of when whatever said life-altering event is over. i had to move thousands of miles on a dime, with no money, a mountain of debt, heartache, a sense of failure, nowhere to live and no job. i know this isn't the worst thing to every happen to someone but let me tell you, it wasn't very pleasant. thankfully i had a bundle of apology jewelry to sell and a sympathetic sister to get me through. i found myself and found love. i found jobs but nothing i lived for or that helped pay the bills. it wasn't until a few weeks ago that i took a job that will allow me to pay down debt and actually save money. this seems like the final puzzle piece for me to say that although life ended, i gained MY life. a life that i am proud of. a life where i don't feel unfulfilled and underappreciated. it wasn't until two weeks ago i felt like i had all the tools in front of me to tell my old life to fuck itself and fix whatever is still hanging in the balance. i'm glad i went through the struggle because now i know i can make it to the other end of anything.

two years. four months. nineteen days. that's how long it took for me to feel whole again. so friends who are hurting right now--go through your process. you get to decide when you run your life again. i hope for you, it's faster. i hope for you, everything falls in line quickly. but if not...if for you it takes time...that's alright, too.