You went home this weekend because you needed to relax. I don’t think London was becoming too much for you but I do think you missed the familiarity of home.
I think you needed to wrap your arms around your baby sister, you needed to have a cuppa made by your Mum and you needed to fall asleep in the bath in the way that you always did before you moved away.
I think you needed closure, too.
It’s been a year since he passed away. A whole 365 days. Only you know how this was the beginning of a chain events that completely took you for six. You hadn’t cried in a long time, not since, but you cried then, thinking about loss and life.
You lamented your decisions, for not doing more with the past year but you don’t give yourself credit, ever, for knowing when you need to heal. You did everything for yourself that you could. You rose graciously from the rubble around you and you started building.
On your blog you wrote that you are OK now and, I believe you. You’re not lying but you’re not telling the truth either, you haven’t let go. It’s time. It’s time to stop looking back and focus on the road in front of you.
God girl, you have so much potential. So much room to shine. It is true that the things that people go through shape who they are but unintentionally, you packaged them as though they are the most interesting parts of you. They’re not. Stop looking back as often as you do.
The problem with that, with looking back is that you’re not letting go and in not letting go you’re not making time for the things you love to do. You’re not making room for the people that love you. There is no use in flying thousands of miles around the world to learn to breathe again if when you come back, all you do is suffocate yourself.
On Saturday night you sat in-front of your computer watching the Grammys. Adele restarted her tribute to George Michael and from that a lot of people took to social media to applaud her for starting over. One particular tweet by Nadia (@nadameansnothing) got your attention, “sometimes starting over and trying again is the bravest thing you can do.”
You did that. You started again. You were brave. Now let it go.