...the sun couldn't rise without you, darling.


This post is going to be a little (okay a lot) more personal than my usual posts. I keep my personal life out of my blog mainly because I like this to be a sanctuary for me. When I'm blogging, I don't have to think about the rest of the world, it's a perfectly wonderful place full of nice people, pretty pictures, and encouraging words. And, honestly, this blog has been the one thing that has kept me going at times, the one thing I look forward to when I feel like everything around me is crumbling.

Back in June, the love of my life decided that I was no longer the love of his life. I immediately moved out of Spokane, where I'd lived for four years, and sought sanctuary with my family on the west coast of Washington. I promised myself I wouldn't cry, and I didn't. I didn't cry for months. I refused. Then, when we came back to Alaska, everything fell apart. Not literally, I mean, my life is perfect, really. But, when the person you thought was going to spend forever with you on this big adventure of life leaves, it's not something that just goes away. Coming to terms with him leaving, well, I'm still not sure I have. The things he told me... I just don't know how someone says those things one day and then another day does not mean them anymore. I'm not asking for anyone to feel sorry for me or tell me someone even better will love me someday.

Anyway, it's taken months for me to reach this point. It felt like I was in a horrific car wreck, and I was stuck in traction. I pushed everyone out of my life because I was too proud to admit I failed. Figuratively, I didn't want anyone to see me in that condition, strapped to a hospital bed, covered in casts. He got out of the wreck unscathed. He moved on, I was crushed- incapacitated by grief. My favorite human being no longer desired me. Four months later I was crying myself to sleep on a daily basis, sobbing into the blankets, stifling my cries– he was in Germany, dating a new girl. I could hear him calling her "darling" and "girl," "cutie" and "sweetie" like he used to call me.
It still hurts sometimes. But I've healed. The casts are off. I'm doing great in my physical therapy. I'm walking on my own. You guys have been a major part of that. All your kind words lifted me up on a daily basis. Every comment made me smile.

Anyways, I don't want to be a downer, but I've finally been able to get to a point where I could do this and I wanted to share it with you guys. I have kept all his most wonderful texts to me since I met him in 2007. I've never been able to delete them, and I still can't bring myself to, but I can finally look through them again without completely falling apart. I've wanted to take macro shots of my favorite ones but it hurt too much until now. I don't really know what these mean to me right now, I'm sure some day it will make sense, but I thought I'd share them with you guys. These aren't all of them (that would be a huge post and many would not make sense to you guys. I mean, my text inbox can only fit like 4 new texts before it's full, so I have a LOT of saved texts. I'm a pack rat, even digitally...), but these are the most meaningful.





I feel like the Brave project is a huge part of the healing process. I can't wait to get out on the road on my own and do something entirely for me, something I'm truly passionate about and that makes me completely and totally happy. It's going to be wonderful and I just can't wait. And I can't wait to bring all of you with me!