The quiet that follows has become a welcome and expected friend. It's contemplative and far-reaching, as if I'm dreaming without actually experiencing a dream. Almost like a content numbness.
When this feeling fades, in roughly a week's time, I anticipate the moment of desperation that takes over when I realize that the life I've led until now will no longer be my own. I have forever been changed, and I can never go back, as if a tide has consumed me and left what I once was in ruin. This is when I come to realize my own bravery; and then, metamorphosis begins.
I have faced the capacity of my heart, the power of my fears, the strength of my shoulders, and my ability to affect the world around me. I have faced the nakedness of standing in a room with only my soul to represent me. I have faced the acceptance of others and I have loved without expecting love in return. I have come to know the beauty that comes from one human life touching another, and I have faced the reality that my bare hands have built something meaningful.
It's hard to express these feelings with words, like they refuse to string together into anything coherent, but I do know this:
The hardest part of the journey, every time, is coming home. Here, I have nothing left to face but myself.
-Danny
