Eight months ago, in early December, I broke up with my boyfriend of 2.5 years on my journey to find myself. I knew it was the right thing to do, and still do, despite the pain that I caused both of us. But as I sit here nearly a year later, my self-discovery still hasn't quite hit me. Its lead me to a different city, one where I have no family or best friends and even no permanent job. Although I know in my heart that this has been the best (and only thing) that I've ever done for myself, some days I still question my own motives and His. Here I am, 15 hours away from my best friend, 13 hours away from my dad and at least 8 hours away from my mom and I'm struggling to find myself in a city that's, some days, still completely foreign. Did I come to a big, new city because deep down I knew it would be a distraction from my tumultuous thoughts? Maybe. But lately, even this fast-paced new world hasn't been enough to outrun myself.
I recently finished the book Riding the Bus with My Sister and some parts of it hit just a little too close to home. Namely the fact that I, like the main character, have a tendency of bogging myself down with tasks, jobs and structure in order to skirt around the worries that pervade my thoughts and tickle my emotions. But faster and faster I'm coming to the all too obvious conclusion that I will never have everything perfectly scheduled out to fit in my ideal life plans. Sometimes you don't land the job of your dreams. Sometimes you pour your heart out only to realize that old adage "If you love something let it go, If it comes back to you it's yours, If it doesn't, it never was" is true after all.
And sometimes, you just have to have a little faith.
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