7,418 miles. That’s the distance between the two lives I
have lived.
Two years ago, I embarked on an adventure with one man and
two dogs. We took whatever we could fit in our suitcases and left the rest to
chance. What we lacked in resources, we made up for in hope. It was supposed to
be the beginning of wonderful things and an extraordinary life together.
When I think back to that time, I remember the love story
that sparked it all. It began like a scene out of a romantic comedy. The middle
was a wild journey that unfolded before our eyes. And the ending – well, we simply
did not prevail. Not all love stories have a happy ending. Some end like mine
did – beautifully tragic.
I chose to save my heart and my dreams for another day. And
yet, I left a piece of my heart out there. I don’t know if it will ever return.
Sometimes I think it may travel forever in the wind, but I’m ok with that. I’m still
here and I choose to prevail. Life continues to unfold. Happiness continues to
find me. And I know my story has yet to be written.
It’s 14,836 miles there and back. I know because that’s the
distance my heart has traveled.
