I've been hesitant to come here and write about anything personal, as is my typical nature. All of these photos come from some place not-so buried, and I have utilized this blog to house some pretty dense emotion. I take full responsibility for that. It is my purpose and my constant desire to externalize the internal, but for so many reasons, this blog seems both incredibly necessary (for me) and difficult to write.
I will say that on the inside, I am caught somewhere in between paralyzing heartbreak and overwhelming gratitude. On the outside, I have little choice but to persevere, occupy my hands and head, keep talking, smiling, avoiding hazardous material. Chicago has presented a multitude of personal challenges for me; the past three weeks have been the most challenging of a lifetime. I almost lost someone incredibly precious to me. What can I say? -- The world, and I, would not be the same. I cannot think of all the what-ifs without dissolving into an onslaught of tears and conflicting emotions.
I hadn't really stopped to consider the force of life... or the instance in which it can cease. Maybe it seems like we get to have a say in these sorts of affairs... but no matter the amount we take into our own hands, armored and bulletproof, some things are just out of our reach. For these reasons and more, it has been a challenge for me to look at my own life in the same fashion. My mind, for the month of April, has been racing, filled with perplexing thoughts that make my stomach tense up and my head ache in exhaustion.
The truth is, for the past ten months, I have lived in this city, and I haven't really known why. I've asked all of the cliche questions. For the past nine months, I have gotten up and gone to work downtown. I ride the train by myself and I listen to rock and roll music and I think about my day, my dreams, my family, my bank account, what I'm going to have for dinner. For the past six months I have been wildly, confusingly, and painfully in-love. No matter the repetitious drone of your life, love interrupts.
Loving someone is not enough to fix all the broken parts. I have confused this notion with believing that I am not enough. I hope that I was, that I am, that I will be. This is my nervous confession, sent out into cyberspace. I'm not sure what good it does.
I went to church service with Carrie. I'm not a deeply religious person, but the opportunity to go seemed like one I could not pass up in my current condition. The message of Easter seems to be that no matter the detriment, beautiful miracles are possible, and hope is worth it. So, I fill myself with hope leaving my apartment today. I hope for renewal and strength and the patience to endure the days that are filled with rain and darkness so that I can truly appreciate the sunshine when it finally comes.
And I hope this, of course, not only for myself.
Be strong, dear.
