in the silence

This summer has been a hard one. And I haven’t written about it because there are just certain things I can’t share. But in the midst of not sharing, my heart has been heavy. Like the humidity actually. Thick and stifling and causing moisture to fall where it may. So the summer has been hard, but there have been pockets of greatness. I cling to those. I have to. And it’s those pockets — those glimpses of hope and joy and conquering — that keep me going.

The funny thing, though, is that the people I typically could lean on for everything haven’t provided a shoulder this summer. Instead, I’ve found strength and encouragement from new friends and a few old ones, but not from the ones that are supposed to be there. And when I realized this, god it hurt. A lot. The past several months have arguably been the toughest I’ve ever gone through. On a bad day, you can read it on my face or in the tone of my voice or the style of my writing. Some days were like one really depressing emo song on repeat. Over and over and over. And in the thick of it all, she was too busy for me. Too busy to call or come over or to really care. And it sucked. I felt abandoned and shunned and totally let down. But now, after three full months of almost no contact, I’m healing. I’m moving on. I’m figuring out that my life is okay without. And that my life is fuller with the new. With people who add value and who teach me things. Everyday. With people who pour as much into me as I pour into them. These are the people that have helped me focus on fixing things.

I started running again. Yesterday, I ran three miles. Without stopping. And my foot didn't hurt. I ran hard and sweat a lot and it cleansed me. I took the time off, my body healed and now, I'm getting back on track and my feet are ready to take me places and my body is ready to feel "fit" again.

And I am thankful that I can start running now, when I'm taking active steps in my life to fix things. Because I plan to keep seeking sound advice. And to keep praying a lot. And I’m trusting when it seems futile and am totally ignoring that part of me that is selfish, the part that says not to trust, not to work, not to try. I’m tuning that out and I’m listening to a happier song. And I’m growing, which comes with achy growing pains. But I’m stretching and realizing that I am only in the warm-up stage. It’s almost as if my whole life has led to this moment. This chance for me to make the right decision or to make the wrong one. And I choose to make the right one. Even though it’s harder and it hurts right now. I choose it because it is what I know to be true. And I’m ready to win this race. My shoes are tied, my dry fit running tank is ready and my hair is fashioned in two pigtails - with hair bands made especially for distance running. Because, the distance before me is great, but I plan to conquer it one stride at a time.