Written on Tuesday, May 7, 2019
Experienced on Sunday, May 7, 2017
I have started this blog post countless times. I have multiple versions that were started but never finished. Drafts. Random sentences, thoughts, memories. Even my journal never has beheld this entire story. It’s only lived in my mind, in my words, and my heart. Today, I finish the written story. For my heart and I.
I’ve stared at the damn blinking cursor on my screen more hours than I could count. The title to this has ranged from “The Day I Don’t Want To Write About” to “I Give Up On Backcountry Skiing.” It’s seemed useless to sit and dig up this rollercoaster of emotions. Who could possibly benefit from reading this story? Is it good for my heart and soul to dig up these emotions? Spoiler alert: This is a necessary release.
The crazy thing is, I wrote all of this in the last few days. A full
365 730 days later. When I close my eyes, I can feel every emotion, visualize every moment in disgustingly crispy details. I’ve battled with how I could even label this day. Was it the worst day ever? Perhaps. But especially looking at the last 730 days, I feel like it’s been more than just a “bad day,” because there’s something about my faith that’s still trying to shine through. My friends and I went through the largest roller coaster of emotions on May 7 and the days that followed. Somehow, we’ve all come out stronger, and though I don’t feel the events of May 7th 2017 can ever be explained or completely understood, something in my heart tells me I’ve grown from these experiences.
So, this is May 7, 2017. The day I really didn’t want to write about, but simply can’t tolerate another moment with all this weighing on my memory without release…