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237.

10 days.

That is all I have left. And I sit here frustrated.

I’m stronger than what y’all think I am. Strong. I want you to remember that word. Strong.

Pound the pavement? Bad mood?

I’m tired of people not giving me credit for the fact that I’m not who I used to be.

Listen, I will miss you. Without a shadow of a doubt. Is it hard you being here as we count down the final days when you’ll be on the east coast? No doubt. You have become such an important part of me. A part of my heart. Forever. You have taught me so much. I really don’t want to say goodbye even if I know I have to.

Listen, I am whole. Or, at least put together more than I was in December when you met me. Or in the months between that when he continued to come back into my life. Or after the growing apart. Stronger. Because, honestly, that is what it is. And I’m damn tired of everyone treating me like I am weak. I am not.

I have survived fires.

I have survived tornadoes.

I have survived hurricanes.

Strong.

I’m stronger not because I’m not facing it. Not because I’m refusing to talk about it. Not because I’m pretending everything is okay. Not even because I’m living in the moment. I’m stronger because this is right. Even when I want it to be wrong. I’m stronger because my heart has healed from the heartaches. Even though it’ll ache again. I’m stronger because my head is in the right place. Even though depression still lurks. I’m stronger because the foundation from which I stand cannot crumble. And y’all need to realize that. All of you.

It isn’t just him that keeps me in a fragile box.

No, it is all of you. It is all of you when you believe a plethora of alcohol is for my consumption. It is all of you when you think I will run to the gym to kill the feelings. It is all of you when you believe I’m not talking about my feelings.

Strong.

I have survived storms.

I have survived earthquakes.

I have survived typhoons.

Y’all say I have grown. And yet, the first sign of adversity your words become tentative, anything but positive. You become the one throwing me in the fragility column, not him. Through this move he has been nothing but supportive. He has held me, held my hand, pulled me close, talking to me showing me how to stay stronger, together. And y’all have slowly chopped at me.

I want you to know, when D Day comes, when the clock strikes zero from these 237 hours I will be standing. The walls will have crumbled. My foundation may have shaken. The skies may be dark. But, I will still be standing. Strong. Shaken but not broken. Strong. Hurting but not beaten. Strong.

And if you can’t see that now, if you can’t see who I am now, you will never see it until it’s too late. Show me the faith you say you have in me. Please. xoxo

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