13 January, 2020. Two years, four months gone.

Two years, four months.
It hasn’t gotten any less than this. Has not eased up.
no.
Has intensified,
solidified.
And that, I believe, is a good thing. Yes.

I’m fairly astonished that I had this much clarity only four months out.
In fact,
I am damn sure that this was my brain in ultra survival mode.

It is exactly the entirety of my body
my psyche
my soul.
It is exactly what I have been settling into for the past
eight hundred fifty-two days

no longer so foreign so
alien.

I am learning how to meet people where they are
and also to recognize that no matter how much love I have for someone
how much hope
sometimes it just isn’t enough to be sustainable.
not without harm.
I don’t want to be in pain over love anymore.
I can’t.
I won’t.

On this day, two years ago. 15 September, 2019. Genesis.

This was the day of my Beginning.

Two days later, at the show, I took the name The Salty Widow. I was having a discussion with a fellow artist about the previous week, its toll. I was musing about the words of it, the word widow and how strange that was? That I am now, and will always be a Widow. That it is indeed a strange word, and I will not be afraid of it.

That I will own it.

Today, I took a huge step towards my next evolution. Education. I am doing it.