I love that I love my life. I could honestly say I loved my life the day before he died, and I have days that I love it again.
This doesn't mean that I don't miss him or I've moved on. It means I've (mostly) adjusted to my new reality, recognize the choices I've made that got me here, the responsibility I have in my own life, and I'm happy with those decisions.
It's nice have some sort of control over my own future again. It's nice knowing who I can count on and who I should write-off, what still makes me happy in the moment and what irritants aren't worth worrying about. I think some people call this balance.
I call it happiness. Knowing what to value and what to let go, where he fits in and having a very strong faith that somehow, life will work out. I don't know how people do this without faith.
"Faith, Hope and Love.... and the greatest of these is Love." And I will always have love.
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