Shattered

When I was 16, my dear readers, I had the opportunity to go to Florida with my then best friend.  My family and I had moved to Colorado the year prior while my friend stayed in Missouri, and it was a great chance to spend a week with her and to see the ocean.

We stayed in this really cool hotel that was right on the beach.  It had a kitchen, so my friend and I made a lot of our own food.  (Her parents were off most of the time and let us basically be adults even though we were only 16.)  One of the meals we did had artichoke hearts in it, the kind that came in cool glass jar.  When we were done, I took the jar and rinsed it out.  

I then proceeded to spend the rest of the week filling it with sand and shells I found along the beach.

I'll be honest, the week wasn't perfect.  I was just beginning to show signs of what I now know as general anxiety disorder and I didn't have a grasp of how my blood sugar and lack of sleep worked.  So I was a total roller coaster, especially towards the end.

But the trip was still a lot of fun and I am so thankful I took it.

That little jar of sand and shells has sat consistently on my desk and windowsill, depending, for the past 8 years.  It's moved through three different apartments with me; I have always loved having it, both because of it's simplistic beauty (shells, white sand, a food jar) and for the friendship it represented.  

Even as we drifted, I kept the jar of shells.

And then this happened tonight.

After 8 years, the jar fell from my window as I closed my blinds and broke.

The cuts are all clean along the glass.  It broke in nearly three perfect pieces.

I'm not sad, actually.  For me, this is the universe helping me out.

My friend and I haven't talked in ages.  The last time we spoke, it was when she called a few months ago to tell me she is pregnant.  Before that, it was last summer when she came to visit for a few days.  It was uncomfortable - we have both grown so much, and while that's a good thing, we've grown apart.

I think I had been in denial of this, of the breaking of a friendship that I thought would last forever, until a month or two ago.  I cleaned out my keepsake drawers, organizing what I had, tossing what I could.  I mailed my friend a few pictures I found that I thought she might want.  

I came to terms, basically.

And this happened, and as I bagged up the shells before vacuuming the rest, I knew it was right.  The friendship is broken and gone, and I am okay.

I am okay.

A few years ago, and this would have been detrimental.  But where I am now, I'm okay.  I have a fiance who cares about me and who I care about, I have a few close friends who I talk with and spend time with, and I have my family.

I am okay.

Sometimes, it's okay for things to break.

~Meaghan