I remember chatting with my brother one evening this past December, we had once again stumbled into a discussion surrounding our feelings about how far beyond ready to say goodbye to 2010 we were (we had been having this conversation since summer.) Even though we had both come a long way to get to where we finally stood, we were anxious to wish the year farewell after experiencing the struggles that seemed to have continuously tackled us. We had both found ourselves in a desperately broke dilemma exactly one year prior. Yet we had made it out the other side of 2010 in a somewhat better position, albeit completely vulnerable to the slightest gust of trouble that certainly would bring the entire façade of stability crashing down. December of 2010 was nothing more than a waiting game, which is a really boring game because you just wait for something to happen. I was literally counting the days until school ended, work ended, my surgery was finally done with, and the big move was underway. The 2010 shit storm grand finale was brewing up to be a big one, and Pete and I were in full anticipation with hopeful hearts and smelly farts (Ball, 2002 – present). This one particular evening I remember saying, “I can’t wait until Spring Break. When Spring Break rolls around not only will all of this be over, but I will be settled into a routine, and I’ll be ready to relax and have fun.” I felt like when Spring Break was finally upon me all of the annoying stuff would be over with, and I would finally being seeing the consequences (good and/or bad) of my choices.
Well Ladies and Gentlemen, today officially shall mark the end of my Spring Break.
Spring Break, which I like to view as one of the holiest of weeks, was spent resting up and spending time with family and friends in Virginia Beach. A few times throughout the week I found myself back in that same place I once was: chatting it up with Pete in our typical loud-mouthed fashion amongst cigarettes and remnants of booze. [Side note: I simply cannot comprehend how Pilly has not murdered Pete and I. Pilly engages in a lot of these powwows and I am convinced that when Pete and I get together we are the most obnoxious spectacle imaginable.] We debated relationships, whether or not love was real, how many people actually get to experience it, whether or not ALL women are crazy, the benefits of being in a long term relationship, and the not-so-great things about being in a long term relationship. We played a game where we went around the table spouting out our insecurities and then the other conversation participants would get to make fun of that person. We moved on to talking about talking, what constitutes a meaningful conversation and what does not, what counts as a connection and what does not, silence – and which type is the right type when you are hanging out with someone you feel comfortable being silent around, Chet Baker, unattainable expectations people have of one another, and the list goes on. Each point was graciously made by shouting down the other person who might have been trying to express their thoughts on the matter at hand.
I realized in the midst of the exchange of minds that the little cozy apartment that is my perception of the world has a brand new window to look out of, and now that the window has finally been chosen, planned, installed, and slightly drooled on by Hasha, it is time for me to fully embrace its gorgeous view. Every time I come back to Virginia Beach or I talk to someone that I haven’t in a while, I see small little growing pangs of change. Because of the adult-sized leap, and the HUGE deal I made about it to myself, my perception is changing, I am changing, and my relationships are evolving. In the relationships I have there are new expectations for me to reach and a new list of revised standards to maintain. I hope I can keep up.
And so here I am once again, on the other side where the grass is supposedly greener, the moment of truth that I have been waiting to reach, one of the most important times that will ever be in my life. So far I would have to categorize my overall feelings about my life choices somewhere in the vast range of the “happy” emotion with a heavy dose of “you still could be doing better.” I’m not doing so bad in the arena of changing what I do. I have a better job, I’m finally getting somewhere academically, I have a nice place that I try to keep neat and tidy, I volunteer, I try to do things around this lovely town…yet somehow I am still stuck smack dab in the middle of battling the person I was and the person I want to be.
Forever chomping at the bit,
Rosa