It’s been eight long months since I moved back to NYC. It pains me to say this, but I wasn’t sure it was going to be ok.
Winter wore on me. I struggled knowing the one person I had ever loved was on the same island as me. We had dated long distance for close to a year. LA to Oslo. That is as in Norway. It doesn’t get much more long distance than that.
We had finally made it to the end of our long distance. We were going to start our next chapter together.
We lasted two days.
We had done months together at a time. We had basically played house. It was a love story written through two and a half years. But when it came time to really look at “us,” we just weren’t right for each other.
I moved to NYC, thinking it was for me, but it was me chasing him. A month in, and I stood no chance. It was done. I had been replaced. A new boyfriend, a new “love,” a new me?
Time moved on. Months of not feeling like myself dragged through the frost and snow.
I was lost.
I tried dating. Thought I’d met someone, and then didn’t. I tried partying the pain away. But high highs equal low lows. Press repeat a few more times and splat.
Then one fateful day, I was walking through the snow and being whipped in the face by rain, I looked up into the dark winter sky, and in that moment I just gave in. I laughed out loud on the cross-streets on West Broadway and Prince. Life couldn’t go anywhere but up from here.
I was being tested. I was learning to live as a new person. I was challenged to find myself more than I had ever been before.
Days moved forward. The cold didn’t feel so cold anymore. I let myself go through the motions of mourning. I came out of my own Barrett storm. I let go and gave in.
I accepted that being single would be amazing. I stopped looking for the one. I focused on myself. Something I thought I had done, but had never really gotten to do.
I decided to be my own great love.
Work fell into place. The weather began to change, and the sun finally began to smile. My hair grew back from the buzz cut I decided to go with as my final straw in a quarter life crisis. And all was ok.
It is beyond cliché to say, but time really does heal all. You allow yourself to fall out of your own headspace. You stop questioning what went wrong. You realize that is was life’s bigger plan to get you to somewhere even more amazing.
It may not seem like it at the moment, but I promise, it will all be ok.
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