I sent a message to a friend of mine today, someone I love very dearly, and whom I hadn't spoken to since before my uncle died.
Do you ever have moments when -- you have no idea how exactly you feel, what exactly your emotions mean, how precisely to represent your internal state, until you've already said it?
I said to her, "I was a bit scared that this would be my life, always dealing with another tragedy. But I think I've learned so much about myself since my family died, and I think now I know how to take care of myself, after I cut myself off I felt good again, really good, like almost better than before it happened. Maybe because for all these years I've been a bit terrified that one more thing will destroy me, and here one more thing has happened and I'm doing just fine."
And then -- I reflected. I think I had felt that somewhere inside myself for a long time now, but I had never really understood what I was feeling. There still exists that pervasive, broader sense of melancholy and tragedy -- but somewhere within it, a lot of hope and happiness. Like a bright dawn trying hard to break through storm clouds.
Maybe (do you think?) I'll actually be okay.
Maybe, after everything, my life isn't some broken girl's unending tragedy. Maybe instead, it's just a normal life with a few bumps in the road. And maybe instead of a lot of bumps I had just one big one, and they'll only be littler from here on out.
Let's all cling to good thoughts, to hope, to happiness, to light.
Good things are out there.