I have found myself in our old stomping ground. I have walked in a city WE called home. I have stared at buildings that once painted the backdrop of daily life. I danced among the city sounds. I road the train to familiar places that without you seemed odd. I ate in restaurants we frequented and ordered as if you were with me. I looked at an endless lake that always brought US hope.
But, our old stomping ground was just that ~ OURS. It is not mine, but something we shared, something we embraced together. This city, this home, this place we call Chicago now was like a new country to me. I was lost in a space I once felt most found. The sounds I heard were no longer the sounds of home, but the sound of the braking of my heart, of the aching of my soul. Food lacked to have flavor, as it lost it “spice” as I have lost a bit of my spice of life since you have left. And that lake seemed dark, seemed cold, seemed hard.
I cried the good cry and then I looked out on what I once called home. I have realized that this city may not be OURS anymore but it holds who we were. I now need to heal and maybe one day I can return and learn to see that the lake still holds hope, but MY hope. That it is okay to get lost on the TRAIN of life when learning to create a new home. That the food might taste different but that the spices that fill our lives come in many flavors and I must be open to all of them, even the new ones that come now that I am solo. That the buildings paint a new backdrop and that they still can be beautiful. And most of all that although painful at times, walking in our old stomping ground helps me remember the joyous adventures we have taken and memories we made.
I stomp loud! I walk with my head held high through this pain. I dance on the ground that was once ours and appreciate all that we shared here, and I am open to new adventures that I might have to forge solo… but in my heart I know you will be with me. I love you!Around the world and back again~