I know I haven't written in a long time. I wish I had a better excuse for not doing so but my class load is relatively lighter. I've just been spending every spare moment reveling in the fact that I finally have a life again. So get ready for a long post. It's kind of about my life now, kind of about my life then.
I suppose it may seem weird to do a "year in review" post near the tail end of November, but the date I marked the true beginning of last year by is about to roll around on December 1st--Erev Hanukkah. Or, to those of you not down with the hebrew, the eve before Hanukkah.
I can remember Erev Hanukkah in excruciating detail--which is surprising considering the amount I drank that night and the way that time can erode the subtle details of your memory until they're vague. Blurred. But I think I knew even then that that night would be a turning point in my life. I just didn't know why.
Last year, on Erev Hanukkah, I started out the night standing in my kitchen drinking kosher wine with a good friend of mine from school . . . we'll call her A.P. We were making our famous chocolate brandy dipping sauce and talking about life. She had just had her heart broken and had been betrayed by her best friend. I had just gotten out of a relationship. The funny thing about that relationship was that I couldn't figure out how I had gotten into it in the first place. It was as if I had walked into the whole thing fully seeing the little gray thundercloud that hung over it. Of course, I now realize that it was the masochist in me that allowed me to do such a thing, but then I was just happy to be free. I had changed who I was for the relationship--not knowingly. I just . . . I was so wrapped up in the mutual vision of "settling down" and "getting serious" that I forgot I was a really fun person. And that I had great friends. And that I could go out. So while A.P. was miserable in her singledom, I was reveling in mine. And that is how we started off my new year.
It was with this attitude--this sense of adventure--that I stepped into one of the most important decisions that shaped my year. That decision was p.2. On the night of Erev Hanukkah, I finally got to the boy I had seen on the first day of school and been instantly enamored with.
It's not that p.2 is super hot. There were far more gorgeous guys in school. Or initially, that he had really interesting things to say. He hung around with guys with really big personalities and tended to fade into the background. There was just something about him. And literally, I was like a moth to a flame. People claim he's gotten hotter now. I don't know. That time has passed. I used to miss the old him until I realized what a waste of time and energy it was.
I spent the first day of my new year catching the prize I had set my sights on earlier in the year. And what did I do? When he left, I called him the wrong name. His best friend's name. In front of one of my guy friends.
Honestly, it was unintentional and I felt pretty bad about it. But it was so hilarious. B Lo (the guy friend) and I sat around laughing about it for a good half an hour. This pretty much sets the tone for the rest of my year--moments of victory (for the most part) and then massive amounts of ridiculousness.
The one thing I knew about the new year was that I didn't want to repeat my mistakes--or my latest relationship. Which gave me the perfect mindset to keep things casual. And when things didn't work out my way, I'd find a way to make them work out my way or have a backup plan.
Cruel, yes, but that's the way I lived my life. I jokingly referred to it as "triage living" to M.E. one time, but that's actually a really good description. What can be saved so that I can have a good time? It's also an utterly selfish way of living. Of course, I didn't really dwell on that at the time--I was just so into having a good time I didn't even bother to think about the consequences or the selfishness of my actions.
Watch me play one friend against the other! Watch me tell p.2 horrible, awful things that would make ordinary people a) cringe, b) leave me and c) never talk to me again! Now watch my friends and I laugh about it for hours, especially since he keeps coming back! Watch me retell my little adventures in front of this boy and make him squirm, since I only know it'll only make him try harder!
Awful, I know. I realize that now. Of course, this sick little chess game that was my life had some additional players with their own twisted little agendas, but that is not the focus of this post. Plus, there is not enough space on the internet for me to expound on the inner intricacies of the guys I associated with during this period.
Of course, the whole "I always win" thing went to hell when I did the stupidest thing I could possibly do--I fell for p.2. My favorite phrase I use to describe it is, "If it wasn't love, it was something like it." Or at least I thought so at the time. With perspective, I now realize, it was, of course, doomed from the start.
I fell for the person I could see inside. Past the armor. The person I'm not really sure that many people see. I remember one of my friends asking me why him and I didn't interact much in public--you know, we always were around each other, since we shared a group of friends. But we just didn't interact. And I once told someone, "I don't like the public him." And that was 100% true. I liked the person he was when no one was looking. Because that person was phenomenal. He wasn't perfect by any means, but he was honest and caring and vulnerable and . . . human. Not cold, like the exterior. Of course, I didn't realize that the person I saw was slowly getting suffocated out of existence. I didn't realize just how much he didn't want to be that person. So that was doomed.
Also, the most essential component of anything good was missing between us--there was no trust. At all. And this one was mostly my fault. Parading around with his best friend in public probably wasn't the best idea. But, you know, to be fair, at the time all that happened I didn't take him seriously. He was still just a mild nuisance I put up with by putting on movies to drown out his talking.
Of course, the feelings caused a confrontation. The confrontation did not go well. And instead of resolving things, I just got more confused. Definite mixed signals were being broadcast my way. And when I get confused, I get angry. So angry Lo did what angry Lo does best: I moved on to the better thing. Whoever said "aim higher" had nothing on me.
Luckily, I did not revert back to triage living so easily. Common sense kicked in. I moderated my behavior. I accepted that I had to be a grown up and get over it. I also realized that having another person in my life wasn't exactly going to help me get over it any faster or in any more healthy a manner. But, you know, p.2 was still a big part of my life.
Then came defining moment two: March 31, 2010.
I saw something . . . . . really horrible that day. I can't really write about it in detail. And not for lack of trying. It's just that when I try to describe what I saw that night . . . what I felt . . . the words don't come. I feel them curl up heavily in my throat and I can feel the tears trying to fight their way out. It's amazing how someone else's grave decision so supremely affected my life.
I didn't sleep for days. Every time I shut my eyes the same nightmare would replay itself in my head over and over again. p.2 gave me a few hours of refuge one night. But he was going through his own things and was of little to no help. I could feel myself spiraling into sadness and confusion. I could see the helplessness on my friends' faces. I hated every second of it.
That day . . . it made me appreciate how precious life really is. It helped me put things in perspective. I realized how much I had to be thankful for--great friends, great family, a good life. Plus, it gave me the final push I needed to abandon the triage living lifestyle for good. Besides forcing me to make choices to benefit my happiness (for the first time possibly ever) it also made it harder for me to revert back to my old ways--triage living me was way cuter than me on two hours of sleep a night. The dynamic just wasn't the same.
So I entered the summer boyless. I entered it with a new view on life. And I swore things would be different. I could see the doubts in others, but I knew that if I held strong, I'd be fine.
Summer was indescribable. I had a lot of fun. I had to stomach seeing my boys from the previous months move on. I took it like an adult. I had to rebuff the advances of the aforementioned ex . . . which was a big deal because for the first time I'd rather have been with no one than with just anyone. I held on to my goodness with a tenacity that was uncommon for me. And I was happy. I was happy by myself. And that's always a victory.
But with a rise, there's always a fall.
I was on my best behavior for four solid months. My best friends were bitching at me for being lame. Instead of partying and looking for my next adventure or ridiculous story, I passed the time watching DVDs and working on jigsaw puzzles. I was in my bubble and I liked it. I should have know that school starting again was going to change everything.
I made a mistake. Or at least, I used to think it was a mistake. Now I kind of think it was supposed to happen--supposed to teach me a lesson or two, which it has.
Perhaps the most important thing this "mistake" did--besides lead me to a really great friend--is that it shocked me out of the black and white world I had been living in this summer. In my goodness it became so much easier to judge others. This is right and that is wrong. It was easy because it wasn't hypocritical--I could say I was living in the white and that everyone else should too. But life isn't like that. The lines aren't so clearly drawn. I'm not advocating that there aren't things that aren't fundamentally right or wrong--there are. It's just that things get messy. Life is messy. And you can't always judge people by one decision or one moment in their lives.
Of course, that's a lesson pretty much all of us have learned this year.
So as my year winded down, I found myself hanging out with a group of girls who are ridiculous and fun and gorgeous. We lean on each other and endlessly amuse one another. They are the light of my life. I also began to shed some of the heavier "issue" friends I picked up along the way. I spent the last couple of months trying to streamline my life and it's been . . . wonderful.
I have healthy, strong, honest, hilarious friendships. I smile and laugh a lot more than I used to--and more of it's genuine than snarky and bitchy. I still believe in love--and am willing to give it a go even if things don't work out in the end (as evidenced by the small tete a tete with "The Boy"). I am centered. I am happy. I couldn't ask for more.
Maybe this seems a little kumbaya, but it's really all true. I feel . . . lighter. Elated. Like the world is finally right. Although, I must admit it's not all rainbows and sunshine. I miss some of the people I've had to distance myself from. Although I realize it's for the better, I still miss the hilarity and insanity they used to bring in to my life. Of course, this is reduced by the fact that it's just not worth it, or in the case of one person, they're not that guy anymore. Things are . . . rough with some of the characters in my life. Especially ones from the beginning of last year. But I have given up on trying to mend those fences. I was the bigger person, I took the first step---I just don't have time to indulge any egos during amateur hour.
So as this new year rolls around, I find myself in a good place. A better, more secure place. I can't imagine or wait for what comes next.
