He Huffed and Puffed and Blew the House Down

I'm fairly certain that what the person who said, "When one door closes another opens," really meant was that, "When one door closes a giant tornado will come from out of nowhere and rip down your whole house you arrogant prick-that will teach you to look for windows and doors."

Or at least that's what the past day has felt like.  Doors opening.  Doors slamming shut so hard I'm left standing here going, "What the F#*K just happened?!?" (pardon my french) while I rub my head in confusion.  Hurt.  Desperation.  Anger.  Complete sadness.

Because the thing about doors is that you often don't see their shutting coming.  You don't have time to brace for their impact.  Or steel yourself against their blow.

No, they blindside you.  One minute you're peeking in a vacant house's windows talking about moving in together and the next he's standing in the parking lot saying he doesn't care about you anymore and it's over.

The whalop catching you so off guard you find yourself stumbling to the ground.  And no matter how hard you try to right yourself.  To make sense of the world.  To figure out why.

You can't.  Because ultimately doors open.  And doors close.  And there's really not all that much you can do about it but stay out of their way.

Sure you can show up and do your best.  You can read articles.  Memorize tips.  Make up the bed.  Laugh.  Joke.  Support.  Love.  Cry.  Be interesting and funny and flip your hair.

But sometimes that's not enough.  Sometimes things just fail.

And wham.  You find yourself in a pile on the floor wondering about love and why you do it and if he ever really meant it at all.  And what the hell do you do now.  Because you've built your life.  Your decisions around him.

And he just locked the door and threw away the key.  And you have no exit plan.

Except, you remember that thing about doors and windows and you realize that person may have been right.  Because that tornado.  Those words he hurled at you that tore everything to the ground.  They made an opening.  A giant one.  One that's left you without shelter in the freezing rain.  But they made an opening nonetheless.

And the walls may be torn down.  And house you were building razed.  But the foundation is still there.  And while you might not have the strength to pick yourself up and start laying bricks you know one day you will.  That from the wreckage.  From the bits and pieces that were blown to hell you can make something better.  Something stronger.  Something that will hold next time the doors get slammed.

Because that's what you do.  What you've always done.

Picked yourself up and started again.

But not right now.  Right now you call friends, watch movies, drink wine.  Curse and wallow and cry.

Because laying that first brick is the hardest.  And you're going to need all the help you can get.

Thanks for helping me.

So much love,
Sara