|The place of my dreams. The place of my nightmares.|
A fleeting moment.
There is no good year, and there is no bad year.
There is only what has happened, how we've reacted, what we've learned and how we grow.
I will not be compiling a list of resolutions.
Perhaps I will get fatter next year, or thinner. I may finally kick the Marlboro monkey for good or I may keep stumbling. I'd like to fall in love next year, and I'd love to not be paralyzed in a car accident.
How can I shape 2011 when I don't even know what will happen tomorrow?
I started 2010 unemployed after being laid off by someone I'd once believed in. I'm ending 2010 working for someone I'd also once believed in, and have found I do again.
I had an unexpected chance to travel through 16 states with my brother. We seized it and I'll never regret it.
I watched my cousin and his wife bury their child, and I'll never forget it.
I've made amazing friends all over the world through this blog, and I never expected it.
I lost my house and my parents took me in, and they never questioned it.
I sought closure of a relationship that has haunted me for more than twenty years, but I'll never get it.
Every year, it seems that things make me laugh louder and cry harder. If this continues I may, quite literally, explode in a fit of giggles or tears - or crazy - before 2011 is over.
I'm not really certain how I thought I would suddenly find closure of decades-old trauma, when I'm at a loss as to how to even conclude this post. I know less every year, but I feel more. When I was fifteen, I knew it all. I'm thirty-four now and I don't know shit.
My hope for 2011 is that I can get better at accepting acts of love and at forgiving acts of hatred. I hope that I can give more love to others, whether it be a hug or a prayer or a laugh. And I hope that a year from now, I'm still here writing about all of it.
I'm signing out for the year, guys. I need a break for a couple of days.
Right now is a crying time and I wanna get it all out before January 1st, so we can go back to the funny. Because, really? Funny is so much more fun than all this fucking sentimental reflection.