A year ago I had my life handed to me on a silver platter. It was dented, and tarnished; practically black. Engraved around the edge were the words, “I have fallen out of love with you and I don’t want to try.”
The number above that surprises me the most is the hours. ONLY 8760 hours in one year? It feels like there would have been more. As I drifted to and from sad to angry to frustrated to hurt to abandoned, and back again, the hours piled up, one after another. Looking at that dented and tarnished platter, the hours seemed endless.
The tears fell and created small pools in the dents.
Sleep eluded me when it was time to sleep, and enveloped me when it was not.
8760 hours ago, he left.
8760 hours ago, my life began.
Not only have I come so far in the past year, but my life is…is…is so much more.
More genuine happiness.
The space from what I lost has been filled with so much more. I look in the mirror and no longer see the dented and tarnished silver platter. I see a platter that has a few dents, but most have been hammered almost smooth. There are still spots of tarnish, but much has been rubbed away by love and support and resolve.
And the words? They have been rubbed away. All that remains is Love.