Change

Recently, I've had a lot of changes in my life. The definition of life itself might as well be stumbling through different changes. And, sometimes you stumble a bit more than others. For me, I've been stumbling a lot. More than I've ever stumbled with something of this nature. It confused me, honestly. I had been through this type of change before, and had all but accepted it was a part of life. Yet there I was, crippled and crying because I couldn't bear this change this particular time. Not only was the immediate hit more painful than it normally would be, but the sore numbness lingered on for so long. If I'm being honest with myself, I still feel bittersweet looking back.
I doubt I'm ready to be specific about anything here. I'm not too specific about much, so detailing this just feels like too much. It's not that the details still hurt--well, they do. But it's not the same kind of hurt. I can talk about it now. I've opened up to others and myself. I even started a little diary so that I can talk about it as much as I need to. But, these things hurt. They always do. Even if it's just a little pinch, when you care about someone as much as I did, it always hurts. The change feels like a slap to the face--a punch in the gut--a stab in the back. I was stabbed. The knife was in and out before I could process it and it went deeper than any other knife had gone.
But, looking back, it was a bit slower. The more I think about it, the more my perspective has changed. At first, it felt as if I was in an embrace and was suddenly stabbed. But, maybe it was more as though we were accidentally choking each other, and the stab was to escape. Don't get me wrong, the methods used were unnecessarily cruel. Though, I'm started to understand. I think. It hurts a bit less knowing where it all came from.
I managed to bandage the wounds a little while ago. At first, I kept unwrapping them to try and revert back to before I even needed them. I longed to go back and relish in the times I had already lost. My desperation was met with pain and tears. And, after ripping off the previous ones, new bandages become even more painful to put back on. My closest friends had to band together to help me put them back on. After a few stumbles, I learned my lesson. I promised myself I'd let myself heal. I refused to overthink. I refused to hold on. I refused to go back. And I did it. In a low moment, I started to pick at the elastic. Once I was able to see under it, I saw my wounds finally healing. I cried. Not of pain. Not of regret. Not even of disappointment. I was finally healing and I couldn't believe it. I didn't think I ever would. For the first time since my original fall, I went for the new bandages myself. And, I believe I did a much better job.
Each day, I can feel myself healing a little bit more. I'm crying less, regretting less, and crippling myself less. Still, I have those bittersweet memories. But I'm now starting to cherish the positive and accept what went wrong. And, I'm realizing this particular incident was just like any other major change. I've always had to bandage myself afterward. The only difference was how many times I picked at my scabs thinking it'd make me feel good. I'm learning much more this time too. I had a day where I looked back at similar situations and pinpointed how I could've handled it better. I felt so mature. Sure, I cried, but I did it. And that's what change is to me. It's never not gonna hurt. But it's okay.
The hurt will go away.