Bad things happen

Spoiler alert, this isn't about Peace Corps, but it came up again today, and I have to address this for myself.



When I think back on my life, I believe I've only had one time where I let the bad consume me. I had one summer that I don't quite remember. The indecision and confusion in my life was so prominent and the darkness was all encompassing. I don't quite remember how I was able to string together the days, but I do know that I made it out of the hole and am now standing firm in my life and future. All that is left of that time is a grade report I've been too afraid to look at and memories too repressed to allow daily hurt.

Sometimes the story comes up again. Usually when I'm not expecting it. When I'm telling a story from the past and I no longer know how to define my relationship with a person. My... friend, family member, person I used to know, person who used to care about me, person who used to have me on speed dial, person who used to take vacation with me, person I ate breakfast with on a daily basis, person I loved to gossip with, person who was never just a person, person that I loved with more love than I knew a heart could hold... What do you call these people when they no longer wish you existed in the same planetary space.

I think what I am going to leave with, before a blog about beaches turns into a blog about family gone wrong, is that life does move on. Without bad we can't have good. Without horrible we can't have wonderful. Without gut wrenching hurt, we can't have all encompassing hope. I've been in the dark pit, but I left. If you're there, try not to stay too long. You won't remember the days for what they were. You will learn a lot, but it isn't college... you don't gain much by putting in more hours. When you leave that place, you end up where I am: happy and full of hope.