But I’m on my way.
I guess… this is it. This is life—messy, unpredictable, and far more complicated than I ever imagined. I didn’t see it before, but now I realize even life has a honeymoon phase. Those early years were effortless—pure, carefree. And then it shifts. One day, you wake up and everything feels heavier. Now here I am, trying to make it, one day at a time.
Tonight, I feel restless. I’ve been filling my time, staying busy, focused, distracting myself. But somewhere deep inside, I know there’s got to be more to life than this. All those missed trips—not because I couldn’t go, but because I wouldn’t. I was protecting myself from creating memories that might carry the weight of sadness. It wasn’t the right time then… and maybe it still isn’t. But something in me is stirring. I’m ready for a shift. I’m ready to lean into hope, because that’s what manifesting really is—a choice to believe in better.
I owe myself more. I’ve missed out on so much, but I can feel that changing. Time is precious, and I’m finally ready to honor it. I’m done sitting in the same lane—I’m switching it up. No, I don’t have everything I want, but I have everything I need. And that’s enough to start.
Life has gifted me in so many ways, but sometimes, it still feels like I’m suffocating. Like I have all this air around me, but I just can’t breathe it in right. But I keep reminding myself—five years from now, this moment won’t look the same. I’ve been down long enough, and I’m no longer willing to sell myself short. I’ve seen enough, learned enough, to know my value.
The movie Alpha taught me something important: you may not always know if you’re headed in the right direction, but you always know the destination.
I don’t know exactly when I’ll arrive, but when I do, I promise I’ll care for it deeply. Maybe the secret to living is simply loving where you are. And maybe I can’t fill my home with everyone I love—but I can fill it with their love, with their prayers, with the quiet strength of knowing they’re with me in spirit.
I’m probably on a hypothetically long road trip—maybe by plane, car, or bus. Along the way, I’ll make a few stops here and there. Some will be brief, others longer than expected. Some will bring joy, and some may bring delays and obstacles. After countless journeys to everywhere and anywhere, one thing I know for sure: no matter the path, for me, that final destination will always be home.
I’m not home yet. But I’m on my way.
Dear Diary, 