Twenty-sixteen has been an unbelievable whirlwind of foreseeable events. One of them being my recent arrival into the never-boring world of singledom and couch-surfing. Both, I tried to take in stride but later realized my emotions are a bigger beast than I imagined. Ups, downs, sideways - I went through every single one. There were days I went through ALL of the feels within five minutes, only to be left exhausted and alone. Not knowing how to deal, I found solace in Fireball at two am and bullshit compliments fed to me by strangers. It gives me acid reflux thinking about it now.
Before we dive even more into this heavy shit you should know, there's only love for my ex. When someone finds you encapsulated in a seal of worthlessness and pain only to resurrect you from the ashes - there can only be love. But not even that is capable of escaping an expiration date.
With blank pages set before me, this next chapter needs to be spent solo as I peel back the multitude of layers I buried myself beneath. Work out some kinks for sure. Or as my mother claims, I should. Possibly uncover what truly makes me tick, excited, and pissed. Discover and hold onto my self-worth. But mainly, be a happier version of myself; unchained from my sometimes paralyzing past. I'm finding it to be a lot harder than it seems.
Yet, at the end of every night, there's a sense of hope by not taking the easier road. Abandoning the comfort of our set routine and leaving behind everything we built up, as I set out to find myself instead. The silver lining comes to me almost immediately, a feeling of liberation.
That in itself is everything and more.
Photos by Lydia Hudgens.
