“It’s three a.m. I must be lonely…”

Time is such a strange thing. I was about to be six weeks married, but instead I’m 8 weeks “out…” That’s not long in the game of life (hopefully), but in many ways it feels like a different existence all together… I suppose this is because there is such a distinct difference in who I was then, and who I am now…

Last night I had before me the task of going through a home, (“our” home that is mine), and labeling what is “his” and what is mine. What needs to go? What will come with me? What should stay? Fuuuuuuck. That was painful. Or was it? Tears alluded me as I made my way from the kitchen, to our bedroom, and then through the garage. I swiftly attached the color coded stickers (a system devised by my dad and hand written by my mom) on things. The most painful to place were the yellow. Of course they were! They represent the “pause.” The “slow down.” They clearly mark what is “ours” or what is “his” but can stay. 

I know that they are just things… At the end of the day they’ll only hold as much meaning as I give them. They aren’t worth crying over. But, I couldn’t help but wonder on the way home (to my newer temporary space), if this was in fact analogous for my circumstances at hand… 

Tears flooded my face as Molly sang in the back seat and my mom drove. It was then I realized that I hadn’t emotionally “paused” yet this week. I hadn’t slowed down or felt what needs to be felt. With good reason; I’ve been busy. But still… I looked up as traffic slowed to a stop for the red light; then I thought about it. I thought about the laughter and love that once filled the house we were building into a home. I thought about the plans we had to add a farmers porch in the front, and the flooring we were going to lay for my yoga studio in the detached garage. I thought about the second baby I was supposed to be pregnant with by now, and I thought about how the good times had outweighed the bad (or so it had seemed). 

Then I recognized that my life is just like the stickers… and I get to choose. I get to choose what goes and what stays. I get to choose what I live with during my pauses. 

I wiped my eyes as my mom reached for my hand, and the light turned green. 

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