and welcome to my blog! I'm an American living in Iceland with a desire to see the world. Here is where I document my life, travels, recipes, thoughts and ideas.
All in Short Stories
I felt more at peace as we continued back up, around, and down the mountain. However, knowing what awaited us at the end caused anxiety to creep in.
My shoes weren’t the best. The shoelaces were tangled and in knots. Constantly, I had to stop to fix them, that or I was constantly tripping. Either way, I was thrilled when we made it back to the steady path instead of the unpredictable mountain rocks.
I'm pretty sure I kept saying "I'm sorry," over and over again.
During that moment, I was also trying to prove something to myself. It had to do with independence and bravery, and especially being a strong women. Being made out to be weak is one of my biggest pet peeves, but at the end of the day, it doesn't matter.
"I don't care if you don't want to be like other girls. If you can't do something don't." I vaguely remember Graham saying. He was so right, even though I probably would have tried regardless. I blindly walked into something that never should have happened.
I sit in my bed for awhile, aching, not wanting to get up. It was 5:30am and the idea of flying with layovers did not sound pleasant. I get up, shower, pack the remaining items, make breakfast, double check times, then mentally try to prepare myself for the new journey ahead.
I've been in shock for awhile. I can't deny that. Shock is one of those things you can't explain. Your mind numbs, your body aches, and sometimes you find it hard to breathe.
I don't like being weak, and if I've learned anything from this weekend, that it's ok to breakdown.
