A very, very long time ago in a land far away (well, about two hours away) - something terrible happened over 4th of July weekend. And ever since, it seems like a piece of my heart is always missing on this day. For years, the ache was there - it was so hard to not think about everything, to remember what life was like before it happened, and wondered if it would ever be the same.
Fireworks always made me the most sad - they always make me reflective for some reason - I can't figure out why, but whenever I watch them it's like a movie reel of past summers loop in my head - fireworks are so pretty, life is such a pretty thing too - and yet such a gorgeous mess - and they always made me cry.
Then, years later, I went through the 4th of July motions - ate BBQ, watched fireworks, etc. - and as we were leaving the park it hit me - hey this 4th of July wasn't too shabby! I really enjoyed myself, actually! And ever since then, 4th of Julys have been fine by me, and everything is normal.
This year is different - this year it has all come rushing back - I am dreading the 4th, even though I have a lot of fun things planned to try to avoid going back to that place. But....I can tell this is going to be a rough one. It's back to that whole ripped out heart feeling - and now I am descending into the worst writing quality, because there aren't any words for how much it hurts.
I really, really miss that part of life. Because it isn't gone or dead - it's just separated from me now, and there is a very slim chance of it ever being restored. I wonder if that portion of my life ever misses me too - if it thinks about me, and if it ever longs to be clicked back into place as badly as I want it to be.
I try to be a "never look back" sort of girl - but it's difficult when something is ripped away from you before you're ready to let go. The ache is tremendous.
No matter what I think, say or do tomorrow - it should probably be assumed the fireworks will make me cry.
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