A Letter to my Sacred Space

Well hey there.. my sacred little space.. it's been awhile. almost 4 months actually. i feel like we're strangers. do you? i remember coming to you everyday over 2 years ago. i craved your blank canvas to spill my every thought onto. my days and weeks didn't feel complete unless i imprinted my every last thought onto the blinding white screen. pressing the 'publish' button became so incredibly cathartic and therapeutic. i found a new love with you you know. a love to write that i never ever knew even existed. and actually up until that december day when i typed my first words across the screen.. i actually hated writing. i always only associated writing with essays and short answers to questions from teachers. and than i wrote my first post and then my second and then my third.. and then before i knew it the words, the feelings, the thoughts, my every move and tiptoe became real and alive. as the words danced across the screen emitting from the little blinking cursor i found myself healing form the loss of Savanna ever so slowly. a healing grew out of this very very sacred space with you... a healing i never knew i would ever come to. a healing that didn't ever seem possible.

my days have been incredibly tough as of late. i've been in a rut of sorts and am having a hard time finding my way to the top for air. 2 years ago i would have wrote to you about it. shared it with you. but for some reason... i've engulfed the thoughts, the feelings, the emotions within myself. i've gone back to my old ways of burying the files deep within the rusty cabinets of my past. i'm not really sure why. i know you have always been here. have been patiently waiting my return. perhaps i've been frightened to truly admit that i'm not ok.

i'm not ok.

and i haven't been.

my heart's hurting. literally. not metaphorically. it hurts. why is it i run? it's frustrating you know.. that this constant heartache stabbing has never gone away. in nearly 2.5 years since my sweet little baby girls life whispered off into the heavens.. i'm still not used to it. in fact.. i think it's gotten harder. or perhaps i haven't dealt with it the way i thought? no i think it's harder. growing up and moving forward without her is harder. watching the seasons pass and never know what she'll look or sound like is getting harder. milestones.. birthdays.. holidays.. all are getting harder. it's as if im on a grief loop re-run. i can't escape the oval track no matter how hard i try to run off course i'm always dragged back to the same path. the grief just continues to chase me down.. sometimes i'm ahead.. sometimes i'm behind.

hmmm...

i'm not sure what to do. you always know what to do little space. i never know where the words will take me but as i start to pitter away at the keys of my laptop the words always just pour so easily from my fingertips. it's as if you know what i need before i ever do. my subconsious connects before my presently knowing conciousness does.

i miss you sacred space.

but i can't seem to find the courage to come back to you indefintely.

i've fought with myself, felt guilty. trying to find the time to tell you all the things i need to tell you. i'm ready though.. to open back up to you.. i think.

it's time. i can't stay hidden anymore. i promise not to let so much time lapse.. things too easily get bottled up when i run from the screen instead of to it.

i hope you understand sacred space, that i'm not running from you.. it's the truths you seem to cause me to admit to that seem to have caused me to stay away.

i'm ready for change. i'm ready to hurt less... again. i was at a good place at one point.. and now i'm in a dungeon of pure poo!

i know you can't fix me.. i'm not fixable.. but you can certainly lend a mending space.

thank you sacred space for never judging and always being there to receive my most vulnerable moments with open arms.

i'll write you more. i need to. i promise.

Your writer,
Tabatha