I realized yesterday that I am not lonely right now. I’m alone. I spent all of yesterday by myself and, honestly, today will be the same. I watch the hours pass with contentment. I don’t need another’s presence. I like being by myself. I like having a place to myself.
The trouble is that I am also sad. Not in an overbearing way. Just in a calm, quiet way. And it doesn’t always feel constant, but I know it’s there. It’s just beneath the surface.
I’m okay. I’m better than I have been in months. But I’m not fully okay. I’m not quite better. I still know I have to take it easy. I still know I have to be gentle with myself. I still know there are moments where I quietly have to fight for logic when my emotions weigh me down. But I’m okay. For at least today, I am okay.
I’m still not fully myself. Part of that is because somewhere during this past year, I lost who I am. Or who I was. There are parts of me that will never change, but there are parts of me that will never be the same again. I’m okay with that. Now it’s just a matter of building on what I currently have. It’s a process of discovering who I am now in this new place.
It’s funny how life works. And how it doesn’t work. It’s weird that so much can change in a year, a month, a week, a day, an hour, a moment. It keeps going though. You keep moving, keep breathing, keep running, walking, crawling forward. You believe God will provide even when you don’t believe it at all.
So the sadness is still here. Okay. That’s okay. Because I learned quite a while ago that grieving never really stops for me. But sadness can sit beside peace. Heartache can come alongside contentment. Pain can rest easily in new beginnings. And being alone doesn’t mean being lonely.