Life shifts—sometimes gently, sometimes like a storm, and in a blink, everything you thought was certain becomes fragile, fleeting. These past three months, I’ve watched as the world I knew began to crumble—our jobs lost, our stability unraveled, and with it, the future we worked so hard for. It’s as if life pressed pause, then hit fast-forward, sweeping us along. And now, today, I leave Puerto Rico after seven weeks that feel both endless and far too brief. Seven weeks of love, of reconnection, of remembering what truly matters.
But I’m not leaving whole. I’m leaving a piece of my heart here. CJ stays, his health tethering him to this island while I go back to Austin, unsure when I’ll see my family again. The thought of it weighs heavy. And yet, in that heaviness, there’s an understanding—a reminder that nothing is ever permanent. The love we share, though, tis what holds steady.
I miss my girls, Nyx and Luna, their familiar presence waiting for me. When I step back into our home, I know they’ll be there to lift the sadness that clings to me now. But even their joy can’t ease the uncertainty that looms ahead. Our next jobs? Where will we live? Everything is up in the air, suspended in this weird space of not knowing. It’s strange, unsettling, but I keep reminding myself that this, too, is necessary. Change, even when it feels like loss, is what makes room for growth.
Nothing is the same. I keep telling myself that it doesn’t need to be. We’re changing too. I feel it. There’s a shift in me, a strength I didn’t know I had. Whether we stay in Austin or return to Puerto Rico, things will fall into place. I have to believe that. The universe doesn’t fail those who trust its timing. It never has, and it won’t start now.
Being apart from CJ will be hard. More than hard—it will feel like a part of my soul is missing. His absence will echo in the quiet spaces, in the moments where I reach for him and he’s not there. But in that space, I will love him even more. Distance will only deepen what we share, reminding me of the pull he has on my heart. I love him with a force that feels like it has no beginning or end. It’s a love so fierce, so steady, that it transcends time and distance. He is my calm, my storm, my everything. These weeks together reminded me of that—how in the midst of chaos, we can still find each other, still choose each other, again and again.
I fell in love with him all over again here, beneath the Puerto Rican sky, surrounded by the history and the memories of who we were before the world tried to break us. And I am grateful. Grateful for the man who holds my heart, who makes me feel like home even when everything else is falling apart.
I am grateful for the lessons I didn’t ask for but desperately needed. I’m grateful for the unknown that lies ahead, because I know it will bring us closer to where we’re meant to be. It’s not easy, this in-between, but I trust it. I trust us. And I know that soon, everything will make sense.
So here’s to the uncertainty, to the change that feels like it might break us but only makes us stronger. Here’s to the love that survives the distance, the doubts, the storms. And here’s to us, to the unknown adventures waiting just beyond the horizon, and to the faith that we will be where we are meant to be.
No matter where we land—whether in Austin, Puerto Rico, or somewhere we can’t yet imagine—we will be okay. Because we have each other, we have love, and we have hope. And with those, we have everything.
To us, to the journey ahead, and to all the beautiful things waiting to unfold. The universe won’t disappoint.
Comments