It's been two months since the world I knew shifted. The familiar routine now carried no work, emptying my calendar dates. I felt the ache of loss. A month of living with a hole in my heart. A death defining ache when you lose everything. To feed the urge of my living days, to fill the slots of my calendar, I started at a new place. As with any new beginning, there were nerves, excitement, and a lot of adjustment to be done. Stepping into this new phase felt like entering a new world. I cried in grief at what is left behind, but smiled at the uncertainty of what's to come. The faces were unfamiliar, the systems were different, and the expectations were new. I felt like a fresh sponge, ready to absorb everything; to fill the hole in my heart. I wanted to be whole again.

A month in since I began a my new environment, trying to find my footing. There were moments of self-doubt and self-destructive thoughts. But I knew, things don't click immediately. I have to keep on going, let time pass, embrace my fate. And I could not be grateful enough for the job I have right now. It's like my therapy; for keeping away from harmful thoughts. It's like my place; away from anywhere I had memories of staying. It's like my book, telling me to turn over the pages and find a new story. One month in, and I am still reading its index eagerly. Trying to find titles that intrigue me, keep me busy for some more time. And I am sure, I will find my story soon.

This is not the end of a story, but a turning page, a turning point. I am not sure what the future holds, but I have learnt to face it with gratitude; towards the job, the people, the spiritual forces that are on my side. Looking ahead, I don't see the death I once saw in my bottled up emotions, screams into a pillow and silent prayers. I have started allocating my slots carefully. In my mornings, there's a moment of quiet reflection, a one hour routine where I reassure myself, dusting off regrets and guilts. Embracing spontaneity on my way to work, letting go of the fear of being alone on my way to life. A non-linear way. There are blockades, sure. There are moments when sadness overwhelms my efforts, my faith. But I have the weapons to fight it. I have the tools to cope, reminding myself constantly that this too shall pass.