both can exist

eleven months ago, i was a completely different person. my world was about to flip upside down after a breakup i never saw coming. for a decent amount of time, i was struggling in a way that made me wonder how i was going to survive it emotionally.

as time went on, i started doing better, and slowly, that turned into being better. my life started to feel like mine again, one day at a time. there were days when i would be with friends, genuinely laughing, and i’d catch myself thinking, i’m happy. but somehow, grief would still find a way to peek back in and remind me of this new reality.

as i started to piece my world back together, i made a promise to myself that i would travel once a month. it didn’t matter if it was a weekend trip or even just a day trip somewhere. i had to get out of my apartment and turn off greys anatomy.

early in the year, i booked a trip to chicago on a whim to see hilary duff with some of my dearest friends. i was so excited because it was essentially a “fuck it, book it” moment. it felt like i was finally starting to live again.

but that night, lying in bed, i cried.

as excited as i was about the trip, i was also sad. i wanted to share it with the person i had shared everything with for years, and i couldn’t. i was excited about what was ahead of me, but at the same time, i was sad that he wasn’t going to be part of it.

chicago wasn’t the only time i felt that contradiction. as the months went on, i kept the promise i had made to myself. i traveled. i spent time with family. i made memories with friends. i eventually started a new job that gave me something to be proud of and excited about. little by little, the light within me started to flicker back on.

i don’t really know when it changed. there wasn’t some big moment where i woke up and suddenly felt healed. i just started realizing that i was still sad sometimes, but i wasn’t sad all the time anymore.

there were still moments when something incredible would happen and my first instinct was to want to tell the person i had told everything to for years. there were places i visited where i caught myself thinking about how much he would have loved them. there were milestones that made me wish i could pick up my phone and share the news the way i once would have.

but those moments stopped ruining the good ones.

i could miss someone and still have an incredible weekend. i could wish things had turned out differently and still be excited about where my own life was going. i could feel sad for a few minutes and then go back to laughing with my friends.

for a long time, i thought those moments meant i wasn’t actually healing. now, i think they might be proof that i was.

that doesn’t mean those moments don’t still happen, because they do. but for the first time in almost a year, i feel like my light is beginning to shine again. i think that’s the part of healing no one really prepares you for. i think part of me assumed that once i was happy again, i wouldn’t miss him anymore. turns out, that’s not really how it works.

i can love the life i’m creating and still miss pieces of the one i had. i can be proud of how far i’ve come and still have days that hurt. i can know i’m going to be okay and still wish things had turned out differently.

maybe being better was never supposed to mean that i stopped caring. maybe being better just means i can have a bad day without feeling like i’m back at the beginning again.

eleven months ago, i didn’t know if i would ever feel like myself again.

today, i finally feel like i’m starting to.