Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

It’s been a rough year and I feel like I’m losing it. My ego has officially taken a bruising to the loss of my identity, social status, and money.

What makes me happy anyway? I don’t know anymore.

John and I broke up last fall. We just agreed we weren’t on the same path and cordially parted ways. You want to know the truth?

I hate him.

I hate him for breaking my heart.

I hate him for the memories I long for.

I hate him for his smile I still see when I close my eyes.

I hate that I still love him.

But I think I hate me more.

I hate me for not moving on so easily.

I hate me for wanting something that’s not even mine.

I hate me for holding on even though I’ve completely lost my grip.

I just hate me.

The company I worked for foreclosed shortly after our breakup and my position was eliminated. Talk about a double edge sword, right?

Not only did I lose the one person I could depend on; I also lost my title and status of achievements. The next step was the promotion that would land me on the executive floor. I worked so hard for it. And now it's gone.

Funny how you make your way to the top only to find your way to rock bottom.

I scored a few jobs here and there but nothing feels the same. Is it me or has this world gone crazy?

I think it may just be me.

I don’t go out anymore and I’ve lost touch with my friends. The casual “hello, how are you?” have grown old like stale bread. Don’t even ask me about dating. That’s another story for another time.

But there is a silver lining to all of this. And that's Grandma.

I finally went home to see her. It’s been several years and it was long overdue. She still wears the same apron, tied around her itty bitty waist. Her hair pulled up in a bun so neatly. The sweetness in her voice calms my nerves.

And her cake. Her special chocolate cake that makes all my worries disappear.

Except my waist line. It makes that one grow.

She and I had an interesting conversation one night. I word vomited all my problems to her. I cried and I pouted about how life is not fair.

I lost this and I lost that.

I don’t know who I am or what I am doing.

I hate the man I was with but I want to love him even more.

I hate me but I know I’m all I have right now.

As the tears fell from my face and my heart felt heavy and pitiful, all she did was slide over a slice of chocolate cake and smile.

What the heck???

How could she smile while I was clearly going mad? I wanted someone to be angry with me and remind me that I am right; life is not fair.

Instead, she just smiled.

Fine. I ate the slice of chocolate cake. Then Grandma finally broke the silence. This is what she said-

“You are loved because you have loved and lost. You are strong because you have felt weak. You are abundant because you have experienced less than. You are wise because you have made some mistakes. The world is not out to get you. It does not matter if it’s fair or not. Your life is here to teach you and while the lessons may be painful, remember- there’s always chocolate cake."

I went home that night oddly comforted and satisfyling full.

And it took me a while to understand what she meant. But one day it resonated with me. I know why she smiled.

She smiled because she cares.

And when she said “there’s always chocolate cake” what it really means is she will always be there for me.

She is my chocolate cake.

I can't say that slice of decadence solved all my problems. But at least in the moment it made life a little sweeter.

And in this world gone upside down, I'll take that slice of chocolate cake anyday.