It's been just over nine months. Sometimes I still dream about him. Ocassionally he is just present; a character in a story. Other times I dream of the hurt. But most often now my dreams are of me, the person I never thought I would know. The woman the last nine months have carved, tumbled and twisted, finally smoothing.
I look forward more often than I look back. Often I catch myself struggling to remember the intricacies of my life with my Husband. The day to day life we shared has begun to fade into the background.
I'm excited for too many things to name in the coming months. A new home, a vacation to somewhere I never thought I would get to see, tighter closer friendships with people I've missed.
I use to fuss over dreams I had. They were rare and I polished them in my mind until they were perfect. They seemed unattainable, like fairytales. Now dreams pass through my head and become reality with such frequency that I need to write them down. Sometimes I fear this will stop, I will go back to living without purpose.
I know this won't happen. The last nine months have taught me to live for yourself. Love who you are. Push to achieve what you want and never stop believing in better. And that is just what I will do.