Fall is here.

In the mornings I find myself falling back into a routine... Waking up in the darkness, hot tea and catching the sunrise right as I get out of the shower. There's something familiar about the cool, crisp air and turning leaves with the sun still shining bright...

Something melancholy too, though. I remember the old routine of waking up together, talking about plans of having wine or hot cocoa next to the fireplace later that night (which never really happened) and the excitement I would feel at the thought of coming home to a place you shared with a loved one.

That's gone now. And it's ok. I'll remember all these things with as much fondness as I can and learn all the lessons they have to offer. I'll fall back into a routine with the turning leaves and remember that we all have reasons for change.

Here comes life.

Clean slate.

Two years ago when I started this blog, I was in a completely different place. I was planning on getting married to (who I thought) was the love of my life, contemplating babies, had just bought a condo and had gained 50lbs which, according to a friend, should have been a sign of all my sorrow.

Fast-forward 3.5 years and I feel I am finally free. *

I feel like life is just starting. Isn't that strange? Life is a constant imbalance but all we can do is keep moving forward. I'd like to say I'm content but I worry that's inauspicious, so for now I'm moving, every which way I can so that when I finally find the right path, I'll know.

* As part of my purge, I deleted most of my old posts, those that felt irrelevant to who I was or who I am, or that were just so shallow and stupid-sounding I couldn't stand to have them around anymore.

The Man in the Room

I'd like to get away from Earth a while.

I'd like to get away from Earth a while,
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return.
Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward Heaven, till the tree could bear no more
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of branches.
-Robert Frost