The impact was sudden, but the entanglement of grief was broad. Deep waves of failure washed over me; covering everything beautiful with murky, dark, emotional waters. The perplexity of my marriage was overwhelming. I struggled. With bills twice the size of my paycheck, a mortgage, one dog, three cats, and a part-time job, I fought for every breath. I crumbled.
Then slowly, so slowly, it began to change. I got another job. Then two. I made myself go out with friends. I got comfortable being alone. I listened. I learned about me.
The pain eased the tiniest bit with every sunset, and soon I decided I wasn't "that girl" that pined for her lost love. I was done crying for him. There was no future in holding on to a broken past. I had no idea how difficult it would be, but I knew I had to reconstruct my life.
With the support of family (both mine and his), I slowly started to unpick the ball of knotted yarn my life had become. Knots turned to tangles, which became snags, and eventually shifted to kinks. I was turning 30. It was time to start living.
I am now 40 and truly happy. I have realized all the heartbreaks and struggles brought very valuable lessons. We all have our own journeys to take, our own stories to write. From my heartbreak I learned to love. From my struggle I learned my personal strengths, my weaknesses. From my spirit I learned it's not what happens to us that makes us who we are, rather how we react that makes us stronger.