A Different Kind Of Tear.

So much has changed.

It’s been 94 days since I thought the world ended. 94.

And tonight is my last night in Arizona for this week, and I found myself crying.

A different kind of tear.

There have been so many moments in the past three months where I was convinced I couldn’t go on. I couldn’t go on a vacation, I couldn’t buy a house, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t get over him, I couldn’t or wouldn’t let myself love another human like that again.

94 days…

And so much has changed. I can go on. I did go on vacation. I am buying a house. I am moving. I am getting over him, and I will love another human like that again.

I went to the Capone Compound Monday of this week when I arrived to Phoenix. I was so happy to know my framing inspection was complete and passed. Sheetrock was on-site at my house on West Verlea Drive. Little changes that mean such big things.

Tuesday was full of sales calls, Wednesday a trip to Tucson, sales calls, and a client dinner. A drive home that included some crazy drivers, and cars on fire. Luckily, there was no flying scaffolding. Thursday I got to join one of my fellow Trane peeps on a meeting with one of his dealers, working through things that need worked through, resetting expectations and being on the same page. I got my first sale this week too!


Class at the Arizona Multihousing Association. My Lyceum Leadership Class. Today was all about personality styles, how our genetics and experiences influences the people we are. There are no surprises with me. I understand why I am how I am; and I love hearing all about my companions in class and learning where we are similar, where we are different and why that makes our industry such a great place to be. Media training. How to interview and respond. Such a great time…

And back to the house.

The sheetrock is hung. My house looks like a house. I can see the size and shape of the rooms, I can place furniture and see wall graphics. I can see where the Christmas tree will sit and if I try super hard… I can see where the swimming pool will go! (It’s on the five year plan) I can see where my touches and finishes will go.

Today I cried.

And these tears, much like some tears from last week, were a different kind.


I can and will be okay. I can and will make it through that hard thing, and the hard things that are still to come. Tears that are hopeful because love is not lost on me, it is a feeling I will share again, a little wiser, but just as freely as I have ever given before. Tears that know I am smarter today than I was yesterday and still to be smarter tomorrow. Tears that will never give up on the good in people.


Tears that choose to hope for the best for the people I surround myself with, and those who have taught me the hard hard lessons I’ve needed to learn. Today, I’d still like to believe maybe there’s more to it and maybe not. Today I still believe I wish well for those, even those who by all counts don’t deserve it and it’s because it’s who I am. I don’t know how to do it differently and I don’t want to do it differently.

Today I take pleasure in a different kind of tear.

But smiles and tears are so alike with me, they are neither of them confined to any particular feelings: I often cry when I am happy, and smile when I am sad.— Anne Bronte

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