I wanted to title this post “burying the past” but I thought “letting go” sounded more positive.
In a way though, I had to bury the past to let go. Metaphorically speaking. I had to come to terms with fact that life as I knew it was over. It was gone, it wasn’t coming back, no matter how much I wished, or prayed, or slept, every time I woke up the world was still completely different. And there was nothing I could do about it. Not a thing.
The only thing I could do was pause. For a long time.
Pause. Process. Cry. Repeat.
After months and months of digesting everything that was happening, it was like I’d come up for air, and as soon as I felt myself catching my breath I was drug back under into the murky abyss.
Dismal. For months.
After deciding to take control back, I got angry.
Angry at the people I thought loved and cared about me.
But that fire stoked a passion I was missing. One I had and needed back.
And now I’m ready. Ready to let go, ready to move forward, ready to love life, pursue passions with new outlooks. Ready to live authenticity and just be me.
I can’t believe it took me this long, but here is to never looking back.
This candle was in a small shop I came across and is called “letting go of the past” so as cheesy as it is, I bought it, burned it, and blew it out.