I woke up feeling sad.

I felt sad last night, too.

I am grieving what I’ve lost. Grieving what I wanted the experience of my life to be. When I left San Diego, I left an entire community, people I loved. I left a place that was my home for over two years. I left a dream behind, too.

I am creating new dreams, ones that suit me better, but I still mourn the old one. And the part of me that wanted so badly for it to work. Devastated, drained, and depressed, I tried to hold onto it, even as I collapsed and it slipped through my fingers. Who am I without it, I thought. There was a time when it was – or meant – almost everything to me.

When “everything” doesn’t work out, it leaves empty space. It leaves doubts. It leaves questions. The memories stay. After awhile, they become stories with explanations. Perspective gives moments from the past new meaning. I have realized that what felt like everything isn’t as all-encompassing as it once seemed. But it was still a big part of my life and identity.

I don’t want to linger in these thoughts too long. I still sit with the emotions, the wistful longing, the deep sadness, the anger that grows sharp at times. I take a deep breath, and resolve to move on with my day.


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