I’ve been sitting here pondering, trying to write and I can’t find the words, writing is such a chore for me now, where it used to be for healing and for releasing all of the past. Now I’m finished with ‘getting over/letting go of the past’ and I’m ready to write about positive things and my ink seems dried up…

I remember the day I let go of the past, the very painful and agonizing past. I was actually angry and I wanted to cry and scream and I felt so alone, like I was completely empty inside and where do I go from here. I was angry that I felt like I’d wasted years of growing and learning to have this nothingness inside of me. In the days to follow I felt better, I was cautious to take in information or words that my spoil my new-found freedom. I’m slowing allowing new things to enter in and deciphering with wisdom what to keep and what to throw out.

I’m looking forward to a future now, where before I couldn’t imagine what that might be like. Everything is more beautiful than ever before, a future looks brighter and more appetizing, quintessentially extraordinary.


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