One of the ways I make sense of things and work through my pain is I write. I find writing is essential to my healing process. I have gone through a lot of loss and transitioning over the past few years, but one event in particular really shattered my world. I ask that you indulge me as I dedicate this week's blog post to "The Ride" and to all of you who have gone through or are going through similar circumstances. If we decide it to be, the ride does get better.
It was you and me.
We’d been on the road for 6 years. Wow, did we have some amazing adventures!
Yes, we had hit potholes and construction and had wrecked a few times, but we were still moving along.
You were my buddy, my lover, my travel mate, my confidant, my best friend, my safety net and the person I most trusted – you were my world.
Though I knew I might not be your permanent co-pilot, I always assumed I’d have a place in your car. I mean, we were friends forever, right?
That is, until the day you slowed down, stopped the car and kicked me out – slamming the door and locking it.
Instead of giving me some warning and at the very least – dropping me off at a roadside rest – you left me stranded - barefoot, in the middle of nowhere, on a gravel road.
As you began to drive away, I turned my back on you until I realized that you were serious. In anger, in horror, in disbelief - I screamed and I ran after you. I threw handfuls of rocks hoping one of them would knock some sense back into you, but you just kept going – refusing to look in the rear view mirror.
Turns out, you had a different route in mind and a new passenger waiting for you to pick her up. You decided that while you still had space in the car, there wasn’t any room for me. All you needed was distance and the scrapbook of memories that you had stuffed somewhere in the trunk.
So, there I was, watching you fade out of sight and there was nothing I could do.
As I began to walk, a million unanswered questions continually went through my mind: Why did you just ditch me? How could you just ditch me? Did you really even care about me? Why didn’t you keep your promises? How could you just abandon me after everything we’d been through? Didn’t the last 6 years mean anything to you? How could you just drive away and leave me the way you did? How could you call yourself a friend???
With each excruciating step I took, the sharp stones of betrayal, of anger and of hurt; of resentment, of despair and of disbelief; and most especially of loss - cut deep into me - leaving me bloody and bruised.
I kept thinking: “He’ll come back. At some point he’ll worry and he’ll come back to at least check on me and make sure that I'm o.k.” – but, you never did, did you?
I thought about just lying on the side of the road and giving up. I almost did. But, I kept walking. Some days the pain was so intense and consumed me. Other days, I’d see a mirage of you coming back and apologizing and saying it was all a big mistake – but, it was just an illusion – or perhaps I should say, delusion.
As the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, my calloused feet became stronger. I became stronger. As time passed - I worked through my pain, I begrudgingly accepted what was and I walked deep inside myself. Eventually, I hit asphalt. That is where I gained momentum.
My feet have healed, but the scars will always be there as a reminder. Yes, a reminder of the pain, but more importantly, a reminder of the blessings that occurred as I rose up out of the ashes. I have forgiven you - and myself. Even though you are no longer a part of my life, I am grateful for the 6 years we journeyed together. I am grateful for you, but I no longer dwell in the past and the might-have-been's of a present that doesn't exist.
Now, I’m driving my own car. Top down, wind blowing through my hair, my favorite tunes on the radio and a smile on my face. I know that my happiness comes from within me. I know that I am stronger than I ever imagined and can navigate this world just fine on my own no matter what obstacles pop up. I know that I’ve been through Hell, yet my bumper sticker reads: “Made it out alive & THRIVING.”
I'm driving in the direction of my dreams and aspirations. I plan to enjoy the ride, no matter how bumpy it may get. I will stop along the way and smell the flowers and take in the sights. I even look forward to meeting a new co-pilot who is going in the same direction as I am and would love nothing more than to enjoy, along with me, this ride we call life.
Hello! I'm Adrienne Almamour, an empathic intuitive conduit. I assist people by detecting and clearing their subconscious emotional energy blockages. This blog is a commentary and reflection of life from an intuitive standpoint which also incorporates ways that allow us to be from our heart.