Last year a series of unfortunate events happened in my life that left me heartbroken. I grew up in the outdoors and nature has always been my form of therapy. I've taken up writing to help me heal as well. Below is a memoir from last year that I wrote.

"This year has been, by far, the hardest year of my life. My whole world came crashing down. It actually didn't crash, it was chipped away. Piece by piece, little by little. Crumbs is what I'm left with.

Crumbs. They can't be glued back together, the harder you try the more they crumble. Swept away to be thrown away. I don't recognize the person in the mirror-she's jaded, distorted, nonexistent. She's broken. No, not broken. Something broken can be fixed. She can't be fixed because she doesn't exist anymore.

Pain I felt, over and over. I numbed myself. Nothing left to hurt, nothing left to fix. I feel nothing.

Still I understand. No matter how hurt I am, I understand. You don't just leave a marriage, you leave behind friendships and the life you knew. It wasn't their fault, it wasn't my fault. They knew someone who doesn't exist anymore. I couldn't face the person in the mirror. I couldn't face them- the people I knew, the things I knew, the places I knew. I pushed people away because I couldn't open myself up anymore. I couldn't withstand anymore pain.

I wanted to ignore the pain, I didn't want anyone around who would remind me of it. I couldn't be around happily married couples or couples in general. So, I ran. Avoided. Severed friendships to the point of being unfriended. Social media sucks in that regard. One easy click feels like a fuck you. It hurt bad, it sucked bad. Still I can't blame them. How were they supposed to know the pain, emptiness inside? In their world I'm sure they thought I didn't want them or need them in my life. That was far from the truth.

I needed them more than anything. I needed them and needed my best friend the most. Through all her pain, through all her suffering, she still had the most beautiful heart. But all I gave her, all I gave any of them, were the pictures. Pictures, photos through social media. Unfortunately, pictures aren't the words that speak the truth. They are just a facade, my facade. I painted a story for them.

I never wanted to take my emotions out on anyone. So, I lied, I laughed, I joked, I avoided. I didn't want anyone to feel my darkness, my pain. They did nothing wrong. They don't deserve it, I don't even deserve it. But, I should have been more honest. Either way I gave them pain and I gave myself loneliness.

Along the line, I found reassurance that took away a bit of pain, at least temporarily. Reassurance came from men. I relished in their compliments but never gave any of them a chance. Ever heard of the one hit wonders? Well I was the one date wonder. Countless dates. One chance I entertained. One chance for a connection.

My wall started its construction. From men, from friends, from deeper connections. Yeah, it was mostly from men. I felt most tried to feed me their resume, their qualifications. They saw my pictures, what I wanted them to see. They didn't understand. I never wanted a resume. I wasn't trying to hire anyone. I wanted a connection, someone to grow with. Someone who sees past my physical beauty, someone who sees me.

Even with my wall, I did give a chance. I gave a chance to two of them. One was perfect, on resume. He could check the boxes. But that was it. We couldn't empathize with each other. We came from different worlds. Two very different worlds with no mental connection.

The other one I wanted to be with. It couldn't work, timing wasn't there. He was lost just like me, he was sunken in his own world. Two sunken ships we were. We built an emotional bond. We started our relationship backwards. He couldn't choose me because he couldn't choose himself. Depression is selfish. His depression disabled him while mine enabled him. Let's be real though. I did it to myself. I built a fairytale that didn't exist in reality. Why? Stories end happy, I wanted to be happy. Don't we all?

The wall. I feel like I'm living in a fantasy world. A real life story of the three little pigs. Remember where one pig constructed their home of straw, one constructed theirs of sticks and the other one constructed theirs of bricks. Very symbolic.

I used to be the pig whose home it was easy to get into, the one made of straw. Trusting, accepting, open to new strangers, to new connections. I was that pig. The wolf broke in and left me hurt. I started constructing my home with sticks, still loving, still open but more guarded. He broke in.... again and again. Unwanted. He made me feel unwanted. I built my house of bricks. My wall. My shield from further pain. My brick house. My numbness.

Now, I sit here. I'm left with crumbs, a brick house, and questions. What do I do with the crumbs? What do I do inside my brick house?"

Poem for the day as I am planning the logistics of my PCT thru- hike

                The Summit
                     Elizabeth Flesher

               Her heart above the clouds
               The world beneath her feet
               Breathing deeply into thin air
               The mountain spoke through wind
               Emerging through valley to peak
               She stood atop the mountain
               Alone but never feeling lonely