Nights have been by far the most difficult part of this week. Every evening, when the sun goes down and I find myself alone in the van, it’s been pretty painful missing Vince. Like, gut-wrenchingly painful. I’m a crier. But I’ve NEVER cried this much in my life. But tonight something shifted. I decided to do something different, and I said, “Noelle, we’re strong. Let’s go to the beach. We’re not gonna mourn tonight.” So I drove to the beach just an hour before sunset, and no one was out. It was so windy the waves were wildly crashing — HUGE WAVES, and as I walked in the sand barefoot I put my headphones in and listened to my own voice singing 2 songs I wrote, before all this pain had hit me. And it was the combination of hearing the strength in my voice along with the strength of the ocean, I felt this energy rise within me, and I couldn’t help but start running. I ran and ran and felt the surge of courage and love and joy course through my veins. And suddenly I had the thought . . “I’m not afraid anymore. I’ve faced losing the thing I feared losing the most, and so there’s nothing left to fear.” And then I stopped and stood looking out at the powerful waves coming towards me, and I felt them as waves of power, love, joy, awakening. I stretched out my arms to receive everything the universe was bringing to me. I’ve never felt stronger, more open, more ready, more fearless, than I do since that moment a couple hours ago. I’m thankful for this shift. I know there will still be pain, but I see the bigger picture, I feel the huge waves of joy and expansion that are coming to me and flowing through me, and I know this pain is allowing me to find strength I never knew I had. Watch out world, here comes Noelle . . .