i was instantly in a foreign world where i no longer recognized or understood anything. not even myself. i had never failed, really failed at anything. sure, that summer as a camp counselor wasn't what i hoped it would be, but nothing as soul-shattering, heart-rending as being told "you failed".
how can one come back from that? slowly is best.
it's been almost four months since my whole world has shifted. and what a mighty quake it was. i've come to question a lot of things... my courage, my resolve, my resilience, everything i thought made me. and i'm still questioning. albeit with a lot less doubt in my voice.
it takes a lot to get back up when you've had the wind knocked from your gut. initially, you question whether you could ever breathe again. and when you try, those first few breaths are painful enough to welcome the thoughts that you should probably stop trying to breathe. but your instincts kick in and tell you to breathe slower, breathe through the pain, for in a while... the pain will surely subside.
pain don't last forever. and neither do tough times if you have the whimsy to believe it doesn't. and i live for whimsy, despite the melodramatic tone of the former half of this post.
so much has changed in a year. i'm in a completely different place. and even though i still can't completely see past this pain and this moment, history reminds me that life goes on.