I Could Die Now

My best friend sat across the table in a little bar in Florida. The sun was shining down and we were inches from the water.

"I could die now," I told her as I munched on a deep fried pickle.

A few years ago I felt like I hadn't lived. I didn't know me, what I liked, who I was, what I wanted for myself. I was wife, mother, daughter, sister. But I wasn't Victoria. I didn't even know who Victoria was. I lived in the mind of a stranger.

The trauma of divorce broke me out of my shell of a life. If this is all there is then I was going to live it. No more being the good girl. No more living for other people.  No more trying to please.

And so the adventures began.

I went sailing and surfing. I zip lined down a mountain. I jumped off a cliff into the water below. I went on a date and then another one. For the first time in my life I had a drink, and then another one.

I swam naked in the ocean.

I danced under the stars in Las Vegas.

I made love beside a stream in broad daylight.

I watched the sun set in Key West.

I drove a convertible with the top down.

I flew in a hot air balloon.

I para-sailed over the ocean.

I walked a labyrinth in the desert.

I climbed a mountain.

I did yoga on a beach, white water rafted and went stand up paddle boarding.

I got a tattoo and then another and another.

I kissed a cowboy, rode a mechanical bull and shot a gun.

I went to college. I got a job. I became a yoga teacher.

I loved and laughed and played. I left fear behind and gathered up experiences and memories like I was collecting pretty shells on a beach.

I found Victoria.

I got to know her and decided I like her.

I really have no plans to die any time soon. I rather hope I don't because I have so much more living and loving and laughing to do, but when the times comes and I do die, I won't die feeling like I haven't truly lived.