A nostalgic detour

I made a stop at a stretch of road I never imagined I’d return to.

For a second, I was excited. Then sad. Then everything came back at once…. memory crashing straight into my chest.

I almost took a picture to send you.
“Guess where I stopped.”
It felt silly. I didn’t.

So I just sat there and inhaled it all the past, the ache, the quiet. I thanked the heavens I didn’t break down. The crying stayed internal though.

When we drove off, I felt split in two. Grateful that fate took me back there. Haunted that it still hurts.

And I kept asking myself, when does this stop?

The weight. The replay. The exhaustion of carrying things no one can see.

I was afraid to go home afraid of being alone with thoughts I thought I’d already defeated. What if they were just waiting for me to be tired enough?

So I went to my friend’s place. It felt safer for my headspace that way.

I Sat with every thought demanding attention.
At one point I asked Rose, “Should I crash out on this person?”
Calm as ever, she said, “I don’t see the point.”

That stayed with me.

Later, I found myself questioning my own competence  something I haven’t done in a long time. That part drained me more than the memories did.

There was even a fleeting, dangerous thought  what if I just didn’t have to carry any of this anymore?

I let it pass.

I’m letting all of it pass.

Because as unsettling as it feels, I know this..
We are exactly where we are meant to be.

Love and light.