In the Middle of What?

Six months ago if you'd asked me what I thought was going to happen when I got back to the States, I would have never dreamed in a million years that I would be sitting at my parents house, recovering from a broken heart, and trying to figure out two very different kinds of transition.

I don't know what's happening next. I have no clue. But I think, for me, that taking it a day at a time is all I can do right now. 

Maybe I'm just meant to take a year off from teaching next year and finish my Masters, maybe start a new one. Maybe I'm meant to live life in the same city as my family for once and discover what that's like in my thirties. 

I. Don't. Know.

And I think it's OK that I don't know.

We're all living out a story and I'm tired of comparing my story to yours or hers or his. When I do that, I'm only missing out on what my story is telling others.

This has been the hardest two and a half months of my life. 


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