Happy Saturday!

Thanks to Fran, Dani, Ariel, and Gemma.

When Edward had told me the part for my truck would take a few days to arrive, I had originally cringed at the thought of being stuck here without anything to do. I didn't necessarily have any place, in particular, I wanted to go to, but just the thought of being able to jump in my truck and go was so appealing to me. I had spent the last few years being trapped on my own property, and now I'm finally on my own, and I'm trapped yet again.

Or so I thought.

Instead, I let my feet do the work for me instead of my tires on the truck. I pass the days between Edward's last visit to my cabin and the arrival of the truck part wandering on foot around the property, walking on paths made in the neighboring woods. I swim in the lake after a day of meandering about, washing away a day's work of worry.

I do that a lot.

Worry.

But also, at the same time, I feel myself growing more comfortable with not only my surrounding areas, but also with myself. Some days I still wake up as the sun is rising in a panic to make sure all my chores are started for the day to his liking. But then I recall where I am, and remember I don't answer to him anymore and certainly don't have to abide by his schedule.

So while I still remain uneasy about my truck, my escape, sitting in my gravel driveway, unable to be a quick getaway if I ever were to need it for that purpose, I am also incredibly grateful for the peace it's given me.

It's made life slow down a little—life's way of telling me to take it easy for once. So I try my best to listen to it.

On some days, I sleep in. Other days, I'm up to watch the rising sun. Most importantly, it's the fact I have a choice.

A few days after I had last seen Edward, tears come to my eyes on my walk when I try to remember the last time I had a choice about anything in my life.

It has been so long I can't even remember, and it ignites the springs holding back the emotion I've been carrying and hiding for so long.

I stop in my tracks, the realization of my freedom finally hitting me.

And God, it's so beautiful.

And so, so overdue.

Kneeling, my knees come in contact with the spongy soil, the grass tickling my bare skin as my body presses into it. The scratchiness of the blades goes unnoticed as I tilt my head toward the sky, the warmth of the day spreading through my skin and throughout my soul.

I did it.

I'm doing it.

Living a life without him.

I'm starting to believe Rose and Alice, and all those times, they told me I'm braver than I think I am.

And a few minutes later, when I'm swimming in my clothes in the lake, I'm blissfully happy to be where I am right now.

Broken truck or not.

Whoever you are, a little self care can go a long way.

See you tomorrow!