Life is a merry-go-round.
I’m just riding it until I fall down.
I’ve learned that widowed status does not create saints or good people.
Good people aren’t created from loss. They can be, but the choice is always available every second of every day. It’s not loss that makes us good or bad people. It’s our choices.
We can use that to support and love others, or we can use that to tear others down and become a destructive force that hinders others from healing, but most especially including ourselves.
Plato said it best, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”
We are battling, and we are all fighting a hard battle, whether that be widowhood or the frustrations of life in general.
Be kind. To others. But especially to yourself.
I’d love to think about nothing.
There’s a theory that men can compartmentalize their thoughts and there’s one compartment specifically for nothing. Either that’s a myth or the universe has played a very cruel trick on me.
I long to turn my mind off. To sleep is struggle. It was, even before she left me. Now? Near impossible.
My mind is a stubborn one, however.
The best of me is often found in those moments of thinking. Those moments in isolation. When the rest of the world is sleeping and my thoughts are finally heard with resounding clarity.
Perhaps that’s why my mind refuses to turn off. Perhaps it longs to tell me something in as much as I long to ignore it.
We are constantly adapting to our ever-changing situations. My life is a stark contrast to what it was only six months ago.
It was similar to how it was six months after Linzi died.
Somehow, I adapted. I was forced to.
We all did.
...and we all continue to do so.