Three of the most difficult weeks I’ve ever gone through.
Wait. Check that.
I’ve never gone through a period so painful, so unsettling, so downright heartbreaking as these last three weeks.
We speak often of knowing what it means to have a broken heart. We’ve all been there before, right? But I have learned that that is not really true.
Yes, of course we all suffer all sorts of pain and sorrow and setbacks as we journey down the jagged roads of our lives. I am not really trying to detract from anyone else’s raw, naked emotions. Who am I to have the audacity to suggest that my heartbreak is any graver or greater than anyone else’s?
There ARE some things that are so bone-crushingly heartbreaking that they really do redefine what it means to know sorrow and heartache. There are decisions we make that no one should ever have to make.
I’ve stumbled and bumbled my way through the years and am at a point where I can no longer sit and watch life pass me by. Such a cliché I know. But something’s got to give.
I realize I am being completely cryptic here but I’m not yet sure this is really the forum to pour out the details of my pain. However, I need a place to go and write and make sense of my life and the world around me and my place in it.
My hope is that this could be such a place.
Such is where my head is at the moment as I send this first post into the blogosphere.
Perhaps a motif for the journey would be fitting to sign off with:
“Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.”
-Charles Dickens, David Copperfield