Today wasn’t the kind of day that asks you how you’re doing. It just… happens, full force. Like a pile-up of thoughts and emotions and to-do lists crashing into each other in my head.

I woke up already overwhelmed. Taxes needed to be filed. DMV things—title transfer and the dreaded Real ID—were waiting like silent bullies, messing with my anxiety. And then, beneath all the chaos, was the ache I try not to name too often: I miss Jenna.

Yeah, I miss her. A lot.

Half of me still wants to believe there’s a version of us that can find our way back. The other half? The other half is quietly letting go, whispering that if she’s happy, if she’s safe and loved in someone else’s arms, maybe that’s a kind of peace I can be grateful for. That love doesn’t have to be mine to still wish her well.

Maybe the universe is nudging me toward a different path—one where we both learn from what we broke, and what we tried so hard to hold onto. One where we become better, not just partners, but people. Whole people.

At work, my mind kept spinning. I was physically present, but mentally miles away. My teammate must’ve picked up on my distant vibe. He stood up and walked away mid-convo. I didn’t chase after him. I didn’t have the emotional coins to spend. It wasn’t about him—it was just me and this storm in my head. Later, I asked about his lesson that morning. He told me. I listened. And something small clicked.

I ended up using his lesson for my class. And while I taught, the thoughts quieted. Just for a bit. I found myself actually enjoying the moment, grounded in the present. It felt like breathing again.

By 3:35 PM, I was ready to clock out. I told my team I felt better—because I did. There was something healing about finishing what I started.

When I got home, the sadness knocked again, soft but persistent. I told myself it was okay to feel it. I went for a walk. Whole Foods was the destination—not because I needed anything big, but because the air helped, and yeah, I smiled when I got there. Jenna and I used to go there together. I missed that. I missed us.

But I walked forward anyway.

Back home, reality bit again—filing taxes online. I panicked when I saw the numbers. I owed a lot. Like, a lot. So, I filed an extension and admitted to myself that budgeting this year wasn’t my finest moment. I reminded myself I can do better. With money. With food. With discipline. With grace.

I texted Jenna—told her about the taxes. She replied kindly, said she owed too, and wished me a good week. I felt the sting of her distance, but I didn’t fall apart. Just felt it. Let it pass through.

One more thing: I need to let my friend know I can’t go to Lake Tahoe this weekend. Too many loose ends to tie up. I feel anxious about canceling plans. But I need this space. I need to catch up with my life, not run from it.

So yeah… that’s today.

A mess of emotions. A quiet classroom win. A walk filled with memories. A screen blinking back numbers I didn’t want to see. But also, a whisper that things will be okay. That even in this in-between space, I’m still standing.

Still moving.

Still healing.

Questions for You (or for Journaling):

1. Have you ever had a day where your heart and your head were pulling you in opposite directions?
2. What helps you recenter when your thoughts start to spiral?
3. Who or what are you slowly learning to let go of—and how are you showing yourself compassion through it?
4. When was the last time you surprised yourself by finding joy in the middle of a heavy day?
5. What’s one small thing you can do this week to feel more grounded and at peace?