One month and one week.

For the first time in a month, my eyes are open. One month and one week to be exact.

For anyone who has been unlucky enough to weather the storm of a broken heart.......They should know all to well of what I am going to describe.

For a full month and one week a hurricane was upon me. The storm made worse by the fact that only I could see it. Only I could hear and feel it. People trying to help me through it. Help me weather it....But, how can you help something you can't see, feel or hear?

My life literally felt like it was crumbling around me. You see the videos on TV about "hurricane" clean up. That is what it was like for me today walking into my bedroom.

At first glance into my room.....Beginning the clean up of what was my life for one month and one week. Being back in the land of the living. Being someone different..... The damage of what is around me was very moving and yet so very hard to clean up. I saw things. I saw life for the first time in one month and one week.

It's as if time stopped inside of me. I look around my room and I get a close up view of the force of the storm. I didn't know it was that bad. A month and week ago the clock on my wall ticked away. The pendulum swung back, forth, back, forth. Tap, tap, tap. A sign to me that although it felt as time had stopped,it was indeed moving forward.

At some point during my one month and one week, the clock stopped working. One day at 4:55. Where there was once noise, now silence. Proof that time, for me, really did stop. Hearing the tapping of the clock made time real for me. Not hearing it made it real to me that my life had stopped.

Kleenex littered my floor. The "new" me, the"strong" me agreed it was time to start cleaning them up. One by one I picked them up. Remembering that for one month and one week, I cried enough for a lifetime. Remembering for one month and one week, my heart was indeed broken. Every thought, every memory, every word said lay within those Kleenex on the floor. Every tear shed on them a reminder that it really happened.

The digital alarm clock to my left........ I must've noticed a million times through tear filled eyes that the plug was almost out of the wall. I would sit and stare at it for hours while crying. It was like a focal point for me. I wasn't strong enough to put one foot in front of the other, go to that side of the room and plug it in. The "new" me the "strong" me plugged it in.

My sheets had not been washed in one month and one week. They also are filled with my tears and heartbreak. As I look at them crumpled up, it makes me sad. I look at them as if someone else were laying in them crying. It takes alot for me to realize, it was indeed me. I want to pick that girl up who is in that bed and hug her. I want to tell her that I love her and tell her don't worry, in one month and one week her heart won't hurt anymore. I want to wipe away her tears and just hold her for one month and one week.

I was like a woman who was trapped in that room..... Trapped is a bad choice of words. I was a woman waiting in a cocoon. Slowly peeling away at the inside to get out. Some days I didn't make any progress, some days I tore through layers. I'm out. I'm new. I'm a butterfly. I'm free.

I not so patiently waited and cried. I really don't know what I was waiting for. I only know I waited and God delivered me from the horrendous heartache that was bestowed upon me. The heartache I placed upon myself.

It was so odd cleaning all this stuff up as "me" in the now. The broken clock is still stopped. I may not fix it for awhile. I need that reminder of who that girl in the bed was, so I know to send that girl who is inside of me love. The calendar on my left shows me, time didn't stop. So, who needs the clock. One month and one week has passed.

If anyone has a magic number of how long a broken heart will last. Mine was one month and one week.

Today, I wake up and as I said in a post earlier in the week, something happened. It was my first experience of Divine Intervention. I may never share what happened. But, it made me whole. God lifted my pain and I emerged as someone new.

My heart is filled with Joy. I laugh and I smile. My thoughts are my own. I feel happiness I never felt in a lifetime.

I feel at home. My heart no longer searches for that place to call home for God is MY HOME. God is Love. God is everything you need to endure one month and one week of sheer hell.

My bible is next to me. A reminder that without that book, without those words, without MY GOD, I would not have been able to weather that storm.

I read Psalms now as the new "me" I see the wrinkled pages of where tears had fallen from my eyes and sprinkled all over them. More evidence that for one month and one week I was sad. For one month and one week a transformation was occuring.

I can't explain to you how I feel in my heart. I can't explain the burden that was lifted off my chest. I feel my heart beating now, not the pain of nails going through it. Only God could've healed that hurt. If I could see my heart, I would definitely be able to trace the scars all around it. I need them there. I want them there.

I want the reminder of the pain that brought me to my knees for one month and one week... That reminder that gave me a lifetime of happiness with God. What a short amount of time that is in perspective to where I am now. Who I am now.

For the first time in one month and one week I see my daughter without tear filled eyes and I see she has gotten taller. I see her blowing a bubble and the carefree moments a child gets to enjoy.

I continually ask God "What do I do?" "What next?" I become still and listen to that small still voice inside me. "Write" he says. To him I say "I don't know how" That small still voice says "I'll show you"

So....... I write. My words here to share with you..... My one month and one week.

I love my God. I love you guys. I love life.

~Me