Nothing Good Gets Away

This morning I traveled to Gulfport with my mom to see my grandmother. Last year around now I went to go visit her, and I’m back again now. When I go to Gulfport it’s a very sleepy podunk town, but it’s very beautiful. The gulf laps against the shore as the locals perch on the rocks fishing, and the boats idly float out a ways. In 2012, my sister and I took a sister vacation to Gulfport and we ended up meeting a few people who I’ve stayed in contact ever since. This afternoon I met up with one of the guys I met back then and we had lunch overlooking the gulf and caught up on life and everything in between.

After we finished having lunch he asked me if I wanted to go on a motorcycle ride down to the beach. I emphatically agreed because I do love motorcycle rides, and it’s something I really do miss. So I hopped on the back of the bike and we started cruising. The wind rushing through my hair, the sounds of the road, roar of the engine, I really felt at peace. The little communities on the way to the beach were quaint and then as we neared the shoreline, the mansions were impressive and towering. We puttered throughout and I gazed out at the ocean and began thinking about where I was, what I was doing, who I was with, and I started to get really emotional.

I’ve been learning more about the journalist Michael Hasting, who is the author of I lost my love in Baghdad which is about the war on terror in Iraq, and how his fiance was killed in a convoy ambush. It’s fascinating yet heartbreaking. But there’s one thing in the book that really resonated with me and I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. With young love, you certainly have to work at it. With young love that has a lot of hurt, it’s really hard not to have that hurt influence the present. And sometimes unable to process or deal you begin to look toward the future more because that is ultimately the light at the end of the tunnel, right? And when you’re doing so much of looking ahead, you miss out on what’s going on in the present.

For so long, I wanted to be someone else. I didn’t want to be who I was, so I worked at cultivating and changing my outward appearance and it did begin to shape my emotions and who I was as well. I successfully became someone different than who I was because I was so motivated to push forward. But now where do I go? I spoke with my friend last night when I was feeling extremely low, and they suggested I need to learn to be gentle with myself. I need to allow myself to hurt. I’m not just hurting because of Mike. I’m hurting because it opened up old wounds. Ones that were not properly healed. And I know these scars are some that make dealing with me very difficult. And I continue to tell friends and family, and others that I’m fine, but in reality I feel shame. I can’t explain exactly why, but I feel it and I think I’ve failed. Even though it’s situations far out of my control. And because of the trauma of losing George I try to enjoy what’s going on around me, but maybe I do indeed block out what really is going on around me, and in a F.Scott Fitzgerald kind of way I twist and invent a reality that doesn’t fit within the background of a character. People are real and operate in a context, and sometimes I don’t pay enough attention to the current surroundings but what I feel the outcome should be. I don’t know, I over-analyze.

All I do know is, nothing good gets away. Just needs to be found again.

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About J.

Fitness professional, aspiring writer, college lacrosse coach, widowed at 28, currently dating an Air Force officer who is deployed and documenting the at-home dealings and updates.
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