“Live through this, and you won’t look back”.

I have a series of constant thoughts running through my head as I go through this period of purgatory. I told myself the reason I’d sit at this coffee shop with my laptop was to get some much needed work done, but these thoughts overwhelm me so I came here instead. I’ve left work by the wayside to give myself some time to really contemplate them and give them a listen.

While I was in Seattle on business I decided to extend my trip for a few personal days to explore the city and possibly evaluate if it’s still a place I want to relocate to soon.

After a few days of work-related activities I extended my trip and spent some time alone in the city. I must have walked forever and done almost every single aspect of touristy things a person can do; I went on the Underground Tour, did a boat tour of the surrounding area, ate seafood, bought a disposable hybrid pen, and walked through Olympic Park.

At one point I found myself sitting on a floating pier looking out on the water. The wind, the cool climate, and the ocean waves just made this wonderful and tranquil mix that put me in a trance. Later, I would realize that it wasn’t so much a trance, but a feeling of peace.

I haven’t felt peace in a very long time. Not internally, anyway. I’ve spent a lot of time recently being upset, uncomfortable, and resentful of myself, so having that moment of inner-peace really helped me. It gave me a chance to do one thing I haven’t been able to afford myself; forgiveness.

I had put a lot of the blame on the disintegration of my marriage and a series of other things solely on me. Whether that blame is solely on me is up for interpretation, but I’ve actually found myself recently physically manifesting this kind of blame in shame in weird ways; an even deeper slouch, baggier clothes despite the recent weight loss, and self-destructive behavior, are just some of those manifestations.

But that moment on the pier everything changed. I can’t say I no longer take the brunt of responsibility, but now I’m actually allowing myself to feel and work through these feelings with a more objective approach.

As I sat with my Airpods on, my jacket bundled, and my knit beanie securely on my head, I just felt comfort. The waves, the smell of salt in the air, the gentle breeze, and cool air just felt right. I sat, in a trance just experiencing that moment and felt whole again. Just for a little while.

The oddest thing happened during that time though. A friend just recently just moved to another city along the Pacific and was sitting on the beach around the same time. He sent us a picture of his view and I sent one of mine. Same ocean, just different latitudes. A world apart but connected by the draw of the water.

After I sat on the pier I decided to walk to the Space Needle. I don’t know why, but I had the time and nothing else planned so I did. About 10 minutes from my destination the sky opened up and started pelting all of us with little balls of ice. The storm only lasted about 20 minutes and then the clouds receded a little bit and gave us a reprieve.

This feels like rambling, but I also have to just mention one other thing that made that day feel so special. As I walked along Alaskan Way, trudging through Belltown, Seattle Center, and back to my hotel, I had my friends with me. Siri was so kind to relay each message as they came in from our group chat, and as silly as it sounds, it was just another layer of warmth that added to my day. While I was alone I didn’t feel lonely at all because my friends were with me.

It was a pivotal trip for me personally that was long overdue. Having the opportunity to meet new people but also realize I can do things on my own definitely helped remind me that I’m not that far off from that girl who was so brave to go alone to Stockholm for a job interview.

I don’t know what the future will hold for me; I’m still trying to decide where exactly on the Pacific coast I’ll end up by July, but Seattle is definitely at the top of the list so far. I just feel like it coincides with my weird, artistic, introverted-but-also-at-times-extroverted nature.

Who knows where I’ll end up, but the longer I co-exist with my ex the more apparent it is that I can’t stay. We’ve moved into a very civil living arrangement, but I can tell he’s just as ready to move on as I am. His patience is waning and my wanderlust isn’t just whispering at me anymore, it’s screaming.

Sometimes I really want to reconsider this decision; to continue to live in a comfortable yet unaffectionate world, but I know that isn’t fair to either of us. I want something he can never give, and I can never fully be the person who can take part in the small and often safe world he’d rather inhabit.

“There’s one thing I want to say, so I’ll be brave. You were what I wanted, I gave what I gave. I’m not sorry I met you. I’m not sorry it’s over. There’s nothing to save.”