The first step into anything is always the hardest.
I thought that I wouldn’t be ready for season two in time. I thought that I was trapped, lost, in despair, unable to fight back against the tide. I was afraid that I was giving up, closing a curtain that wouldn’t be lifted again.
But somehow, and it’s a bit miraculous to me, I’m managing to move forward. I’m stronger than I thought I was. More than I gave myself credit for, more than I was nine months ago or even twelve hours ago. Maybe it was those promises that helped me to realize what I needed.
The promise that one day I’d find what I’m looking for. The promise that I’ll be able to protect those who can’t protect themselves with my own two hands. The promise that He’ll never leave me behind.
It’s funny, hearing the sweet sound of worship, the screams of stressed college students, and the laughter of people running around in their underwear simultaneously. It was a perfect blend of serenity and chaos that’s marked my life for the past month. I’ve made some pretty bad choices, but I think I’m done with that.
The first step into anything is always the hardest. But once you realize that it’s something you need to do, your resolve strengthens, and from there, it’s like standing up.
I’m sorry that I haven’t been honest. I’m sorry that I’ve been allowing myself to make the same mistakes. I’m sorry that I’ve let that get in the way of loving everyone. I think I was just waiting for the sun to come up.
And it’s a freaking nice day.
Bring it on, season two. Just who the hell do you think I am?
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