Tuesday, January 3, 2017

New Year, New...everything.

As I went out to enjoy the last hours of 2016 I had high hopes of making the night fun, and enjoyable.

The first couple of hours were spent in a bar I'd never been in before, proudly decked out in scarlet and grey clinging to my Buckeyes for dear life, and watched as The Ohio State fell very, very hard straight onto their faces. The end was a sweet relief. I didn't have to watch them flop and fumble anymore, or think of my friends who had driven across the country just to watch our team lose.

But I was determined to shake it off and have a great night anyways.

I spent a little while at The Tap, talking to people and waiting for Elk Tongue's show to begin at 8Bytes Cafe. I was excited to finally go to a show, it had been far too long. Plus, the band consists of two of my coworkers so mostly everyone I've ever met in Laramie was going to be there. And we all had plans to head back to Tap at Midnight for the champaigne toast. What about this night could go wrong?

Well. For me, a lot.

It took all of about 10 minutes for a very unexpected bout of rather intense anxiety and introversion to punch me in the face. Very hard. I could not keep still, and I lost all desire to dance and experience the band. I couldn't even stand still long enough to wait in the bar line and order a drink. I tried very hard to participate in the festivities, but these unwelcome memories kept coming over me like a flood. I knew it was time for me to go when a coworker asked if I had a sad face on. I had no desire to bum anyone's night, so I left. I went back to CoalCreek. I sat at the coffee bar for awhile, fighting tears. I tried to go to Tap a few times, but every time I did my brain just started screaming "Too many people! No! Go back! Get out!" I wanted nothing more than to just leave completely, and stand on the bridge staring at the stars at midnight.

Another coworker asked me if I was ok, and I just cried more. I didn't want to talk about it. I just wanted to cry more.

Eventually we went to Tap, to get ready for the toast. And that's when I couldn't fight the tears anymore.
That's when the memories I'd been struggling to bury resurfaced like the undead from the grave.

And I completely broke down.Cried into my flute and everything.


My first hours of 2016 were spent in the arms of the one I used to love. I bet my life and my future on him. I put all of my eggs into his basket.
We started our year on some uncertainty. That uncertainty grew, and grew until it became a canyon between us that pushed us further and further apart.
The plans that we had begun to build and work towards slowly began to crumble and fall apart. He began changing his mind on things that used to be steadfast. The more he became unsure, the more i fought, kicked, and screamed to make sure I got what I wanted out of the relationship.
The harder I fought, the more he pulled away.

And then one day, after weeks of tears and arguments, he went back to Cleveland. I cried a lot more. I think a part of me, deep down lost somewhere inside of me, the voice I had quit listening to when my heart became so set on getting married that I wanted nothing else in life, It knew we were over. I knew we were coming to an end. But I fought, hard. Because I knew what I wanted, and I thought I knew what I needed.

I had no clue where God was sending him, or what he was being called to. He barely knew himself. But I knew that I was being sent West.

And then. Less than two weeks after I had arrived at Table in the Wilderness, all of my dreams, hopes, and plans that I carried into the year were completely shattered.
In a short couple of texts, and a long phone call or two, everything was just...over.

It took five days for me to fall apart. It took five days for the shock to wear off. Five days for the tears to come, and then not stop for an entire day.
It took a Summer of conversations. Love. Hugs. Prayers. Leaning on shoulders. An amount of reliance on other people that I've never experienced before.

If you've read my past blogs, you know that my Summer was pure adventure, experience, and healing. I'm not going to bother reiterating all of it. I short: it was exactly what I needed. It was a time that God began to rebuild my hopes, dreams, and plans. He killed the ones that I had thought were what I needed, and He showed me little glimpses of His hopes, plans, and dreams for me.

As Summer turned to Fall, I found myself back in school, working as a barista, and living alone with my precious little The Frog Princess Buttercup.
Sometimes I wake up and the crushing sense of loneliness is like a weight on my whole body that won't let me out of bed. Just sitting there glaring at me, reminding me that I'm not married, I'm not dating anyone, and I am very, very alone.
The loneliness reminds me that there is a wedding dress sitting in a closet as good as rotting.
The loneliness makes sure that I remember that so many of my friends got married, while my relationship completely fell apart.

But then.
On January 1st. I went to work hating the world. Pissed off. Frustrated. Cranky as all get out. Snapping at my coworkers. Trying very hard not to glare at customers. Failing at lying when people said "How was your New Years Eve?" I wanted to tell people I was fine, but I could not lie. Instead I was almost bluntly honest with them, and then hurriedly apologizing for being a cynic.

Before I knew it, my coworkers were surrounding me with love and some really powerful advice about embracing being alone.

 "The world is your oyster. The world is my oyster. The world is OUR oyster. We're not married! We're out here on our own, for the first time! And we can do ANYTHING. You are not broken because you're not married. Your story is not your friend's story. Your friend's stories are not your story. Your story is your story. Embrace it. Love yourself. Don't wait for a man to give you purpose. Because a man can't give you purpose. A man can't complete you. You have to be complete on your own before you're ready to share the REST of your life with a boy!"

Thank you, Abbey. I love you. I'm thankful beyond words that we work together.

All of this to say:
It's a New Year and I've got pretty much new everything going for me. Except, my faithful books and art...but, well, you get the point. Everything is new. My life looks nothing like it did 365 days ago. It frightens and excites me at the same time. But in all honesty, I hope my life doesn't change THAT much all over again this year.
And no. I am not making a resolution this year. I haven't done one since I was like ten or twelve. And I am also no longer doing the projections, either. I'm tired of being disappointed in what I hope to happen in a year. I'm just letting it all go, and am going to be content in whatever this year contains.

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