Eight months

I use to think that eight months was a long time-even six months because that was half a year. But that seemed long then because it was the longest time I had spent with a person on a romantic level. That was a long time because I wanted it-during those moments-to be the first and only long time I would spend with anyone. I wanted that to be it. Just eight months and I was about to give my forever away, just eight months and I gave my love and heart away, just eight months and I thought I had legitimate reasons to say he was the one and only- but little did I know those eight months in the broad scheme of things were no time at all.

I look back now, seven months away from James' and my break up and A LOT has changed. A lot has happened. I have grown  A LOT for these seven months of time, but these seven months-even though hard-haven't been a long time. Maybe a long ride, a necessary pain on certain levels but it has ONLY been SEVEN months. A month short of eight. But it seems like just yesterday I was checking out of Old Vineyard. It seems like just yesterday I was getting my act together. Just yesterday I was in love with you. Seven months is not a long time when you are thinking in terms of forever and lifetimes. I am not the person I was seven months ago, not even the same person I was two weeks ago.

I have heard a phrase I would like to share, "Time doesn't heal all wounds, it's what you do with the time." In these past seven months I have done a lot with my time. But in those short eight months-I did nothing. I became nothing. And I was treated like nothing. Now I am something, someone and I have gained my life back.

Never again. The walls are up now and heavily guarded. The soldiers are armed and ready.

I'll keep you posted,
the flying fish