Ten days it has been. Ten days during which I have watched, listened and waited for a sign, any sign, that the tide is turning in my favor and things are finally going back to normal. Ten days during which I have alternately had my hopes soar and then plummet, in a never-ending rollercoaster ride that has gone from loop to loop to death drop over the last two and a half months.
Every day I ask myself, Why am I still here? Why am I still doing this? What on earth could make this worth all the pain I’ve put myself through? I had a contingency plan in place. I had decided exactly what I was going to do should everything go south and I am forced to walk away. And yet I keep that contingency plan at bay, hoping that I won’t have to use it so soon, hoping that somehow, all of this would have been for nothing.
Because the answer is so clear, so simple, and so unshakeably certain, that I know I would exhaust all my energies on it before I turn to any other plan. Because in the back of my mind, I still choose to believe that this one could be different, could be better than all the rest. Because I know now what it truly means to love, and I know there will never be another love like this.