It is all ok.

The title is something a dear friend of mine had tattooed on her at a certain point her her grief process. She said she was finally in a place where she could believe it, even if she didn't feel it all the time.

Yesterday, I think I reached that spot. Or maybe it happened over the weekend. Whenever it happened, a corner was turned. My optimism and security have been in the house since Sunday morning.

If yesterday had happened last week, it would have been an awful day within the first hour. Woke up with a sore throat and low energy; soon after waking, my arm started having strange and painful nerve sensations; the morning's plan of a slow start with my sweetie working at home was derailed by him being called into work for an "emergency"; knowing I would have to sleep alone at the end of the day; driving too much and in such weird weather.

Instead, I had a great day. Sure, I wasn't as productive as I had planned to be. You know what, though? I feel secure and loved, though. Upon rereading the above paragraph, my mind immediately starts injecting "buts". But it really wasn't that bad of a day. After all, we had such good sex early in the morning that we were able to snuggle back to sleep for an hour or so. I'm not that sick; the sore throat hasn't gotten any worse. Now, maybe I'll be motivated to go to the doctor and find out what is wrong with my neck. But probably not because it feels better now.

A week or a month or a half a year ago, I would not be so pleased with the day. Instead of feeling cheated out of time with my sweetie, I feel loved because he told me to stay in bed as long as I could and rest up. And he gave me 3 different good bye kisses, too.

Maybe all I needed was one good experience in the face of all my fears and nervousness to get me back on track. Or did the security come first and make the good experience possible? Either way, it feels good to be happy and secure.