I’ve filled my life with millions of expectations for myself and others. I am believing in lessons of letting things go and let them lie where they may. I am returning to Montana in a week. I am a mixture of confused feelings of being ok with my expectations of myself. wondering if I am admitting things to myself or just telling myself these things. what’s the difference? I am the only person who expects these things from myself, therefore I am the only person to change them and no one has the right to be disappointed in who I am and what I choose.

it’s okay that I didn’t climb 8 peaks while I was here. I climbed plenty. I still lived, loved and saw what it was all about. reminded of the right things I needed to see. weighed my life as I’ve made it, now with confidence and comfort, knowing what I want. knowing where I am, who I am, where I stand, and willing to let life happen.

I am staring outside the coffee shop window at the grey sopping mess that is Portland. I feel like I needed to get it out of my system. I am glad I did, otherwise I would always wonder. I am sure of the choices I made and who’s to say I wouldn’t find myself in the PNW again sometime soon (maybe bellingham?). but in the mean time I need to learn how to live again. I feel like I have merely started to again and part of me coming back here was to seal the deal that it was over, and that I am forever. to verify that many things in my life are now over and there’s no sense in longing. I am older, all the more wiser and sometimes I think with this heavy age comes a happiness that is more intense, colors that burn brighter, and a sadness that is very real, thorough and permanent.

I had a dream of him last night. in my dream I spoke to him and was nice to him. I have thought about him since I came back here and now am actually acknowledging how much he changed my life and how sad I am about everything that happened. for a very long time I have been angry, but today I am nothing less of a confused person over the ordeal. it’s sometimes sad how much I still carry with me and how much it still confuses me. I know everyone would say it’s sad, particularly sad how much it effected me. but finally, coming here, while it stabs me, I also had to be able to be in this city and not feel scared or threatened by him.

he loved me but he didn’t know who I am. and all this, finally, for once in my life, makes me shut up, hold still, breethe life in. it’s helped me get to where I have wanted to be: absolutely still.