Niches

Not everybody gets to do something amazing with their life, but everyone
deserves to have their own place in the world.  Some where they call home,
some one they call friend, some way they call life.  Nobody should have to
endure the painful feeling that they may perhaps be alone in the world,
misunderstood and lost.  Like if they packed up and moved tomorrow, the
empty space would soon be occupied by a different, more memorable soul.

I could have stayed.  I would have earned my 9, then my 11, then applied for
my 12.  I wanted to go to grad school, but I never needed to.  I wanted to
meet men my age, but I would have found one eventually.  I wanted to make an
impact somewhere, be important to somebody, but I could have realized that
what I do at work will never amount to anything worth mentioning to
strangers.  I could have stayed and continued to pay rent and kept all my
belongings and still spent my free timing loving my friends and my routine
and my daily activities.  None of my problems were solved by leaving.  Just
changed.

But somehow I am gone.  And I am here now.  And there must be some larger
plan that I have no right to know about.  Life simply can't be all
coincidence.

OK

She made a visor with her hands and looked up at him.

"So 4/8, what does that sound like?"

He doubled-timed a beat for her.  Da da da four da da da four.

"I guess that's why they don't just call it 1/2, then, huh?"

He stared at her. 

"You know, reducing fractions."

He laughed.  Of course she would think that way.  He touched her lightly.  "Yeah, so then I guess 4/4 would just be...1."

"Ok, so what would that sound like."

Da.

She laughed harder.

"Wow, I'm amazed you never made it as a rockstar.  That was really, really good.  Can I have your autograph?"

"Smartass."

She pulled a pen out of her purse and looked around.  "Here," she said, handing him the sleeve from her coffee cup, "sign this."

He turned from her and started signing.  Behind him the sun was setting and a crowd was forming, waiting for a tour to start.  He turned back toward her, proud of himself.  "Here."

She looked down at it.  May I kiss you now?

Dating is terrifying.  And painful.  Basically, you have to force yourself to invest in something that almost always has absolutely no return, and sometimes has a negative return.  Plus, it reinforces negative habits.  Unless you're lucky enough to meet the love of your life before hundreds of people prove that assholes are everywhere.

But I'm going to hang in there.  I'm not done yet.  I have a lot to offer this world, and my future partner, and I am excited to have fun finding him.  So take that, world.

Resolve to be resolute in all resolutions.

I'm not going to make any resolutions.  That's too...definitive.  It would just set me up for failure.  Instead, I am going to clarly define what it is that I want to accomplish in 2010.

As I have just started a completely new life, I want to be a warm and loving presence in as many new friendships as I can. 

I want to make this a year of traveling.  Boston, New York, Florida, Williamsburg, Philly, Baltimore...

This year, I will continue to work on not sweating the small things.  Life is too short to worry about fixing things that can't be changed.  Acknowledge, accept and MOVE ON!

This year I am going to take care of myself--emotionally, physically, financially, and spiritually. 

Gathering.

It's taken me a while to process what that day meant to me.  At first, it's hard to believe that an entire year has gone by.  I feel almost guilty that I've lived so much since you chose not to.  I wonder what you would think of me now--graduated, moving across the country.  I wish there were some way to show you all of the things I've done; sometimes all I want is to hear your praise, to listen to you tell me how beautiful you think I am.  Whose lap do I sit in now?  You were the only person who didn't think I've gotten too old.  A whole year, but it still hurts like it did 52 weeks ago.  What will next year be like?  What happens after five years?  Ten?  Fifty?

What if I forget?  
 
How is Jason?  We miss him, too.  That still hurts, too.  I want him back here with us, too.

What is it about death that is so troublesome? My own death doesn't bother me, just the death of everyone else. 

Hopelessness.

I do everything by myself.  And really, I've done a lot.  But I don't want to anymore.

So how do I get up for work in the morning now?

Tonight.

I am terrified. In an exciting, exhilarating, exhausting
kind of way.
Sometimes the nagging, needful, necessary
details take over.
I forget the adventurous, aspiring, animated
self I am.
Fears of broken, beaten, battered
dreams consume me.
But then I see the vivid, vital, voracious
opportunities becoming real.
My sleepy, stunning, sublime
dreams take over.