Every morning, I slide into the driver’s seat, turn the key, and let the engine rumble to life. The road ahead is familiar—stretching out before me, a routine path to work. Yet, every day, as I grip the steering wheel, my mind takes a detour into memories of Jenna.

I don’t dwell on the past in a way that weighs me down, but rather, I sift through it—like holding a worn-out photograph, tracing the edges, and understanding the picture in a way I never did before. If I could rewind certain moments, I wonder, would I have slowed down? Would I have listened more? Would I have understood her better? But the past is not something I can rewrite—it’s something I must learn from.

What about you? If you could revisit your past, would you have done anything differently? Do you ever find yourself wishing you had paused, taken a breath, and truly absorbed the moment before it passed?

It’s not regret—it’s reflection.

There are moments I catch myself expecting to come home and tell Jenna about my day, to hear her sign-talk filling the quiet space. And then, reality settles in like a whisper in the wind—she’s not there. That space, once shared, now belongs to me alone. At first, the realization hits like a sharp pang in my chest, but over time, I’ve started to embrace it. I am moving forward. I am walking through the crossroads of ups and downs, finding my way through the uncertainty.

Pain isn’t something to be avoided. I’ve come to see it as a teacher. Every ache, every longing, every moment of doubt—I face them. I don’t push them away. Because the more I confront them, the more I heal. I’ve learned to embrace the triggers, to sit with the discomfort until it no longer defines me but instead shapes me into something stronger.

What about you? Have you ever found yourself trying to avoid pain, only to realize that facing it was the only way to truly move forward?

When I work on things alone, sometimes, she still crosses my mind. I admit it. But I no longer fight it. Missing someone is not a weakness; it’s proof of love, proof of the connection we once had. And moving forward doesn’t mean erasing those memories—it means learning to carry them differently.

Looking back, I realize how I once moved through life without pausing, without truly checking in—with myself, with her, with us. I used to think that love was about simply being together, but now I understand—it’s also about reflecting, about making sure that togetherness is nurtured, that we see and hear each other fully.

How often do you pause and check in—with yourself? With the people you love? Do you ask yourself where your relationships are going, or do you simply move forward without stopping to reflect?

Being alone has given me the time and space to learn more about myself. And for that, I am grateful. There is beauty in solitude, in the lessons whispered in the quiet. Every day, I grow, I learn, and I appreciate what this journey is teaching me.

The road ahead is still uncertain, but I drive forward, knowing that every mile, every memory, every lesson is part of my path. And I am exactly where I need to be.

And you? Where are you on your journey? Are you looking back with regret or with reflection? Are you embracing your lessons or avoiding them? Whatever your answer, know this—you are growing, too.