I watched a dramatization of an alcoholic falling off the wagon. 546 days he lasted. It took a shift of epic proportions to bring him down. Real life is far more fragile. See, 207 or so days ago I broke. I shattered. I recognized that everything that I moved myself towards was hurtling away so fast that I didn’t have any chance to grab hold and pull back. So I let everything drop. Nearly a year later I am still trying to find parts of what I lost.
I lost my motivation. I lost my heart for the things I love. It wasn’t because of her. She may have been the catalyst for self reflection, but she was not to blame. Everything built to it.
So now I am in a space where I appreciate the most important things in my life more, but I also have lost a very vital part of my person–that iron will that allowed me to be so successful in my early life. Honestly, I don’t know how to get it back. In a sense I fell off my own will-wagon and I gotta find a way to get right.