Better Place

There's so much that I couldn't tell you about the year previous. I couldn't tell you about my triumphs and tragedies because, quite honestly, I don't remember much of the past year. It was a rut, well-worn and deepening.

I finished several drafts of my novel, and have sent it out for editing, and now await (patiently) it's return, dripping with red ink and thoughtful comments. I settled into work, and traveled a fair amount for it. That pretty much describes most of the past year.

Several people I know say they're just killing time until they die, and I think last year might have been one of those. Not a waste, because I did finish and edit the novel, but everything else muddled into a status quo.

However, the last few weeks showed great promise for the upcoming year. If, fifteen years ago, you took me aside and told me it would take another fifteen years for my life to start making sense, I would've laughed at you. Now I'm just thankful that it's happening a little.

So, what happened? First new car, 2009 metallic grey Honda Civic I've named Julia. Another bill means more responsibility, but it isn't like I've been shirking responsibility. Helped meet a deadline or two at work, which finally convinced me that maybe I can be a helpful, contributing member of the team. Got to spend quality time with people, which reminded me how much they matter to me, even if I didn't think of it at the time. Also, met some new people, and they responded well, which means that the self-image I carry really is outdated and incorrect, and that I'm finally starting to pull it all together.

It has been an eternity since I've been able to look forward to tomorrow, but I really do. These last few weeks renewed my wellspring of hope, which as of late had been running dry. It scares me that I might once again let myself revel in my emotions, rather than push them beneath the surface and try to pretend they didn't exist, throwing out a snarky joke in their stead.

Maybe these past few weeks were just a blip on the radar, and things will regress to the mean again. And I've weighed that possibility, and that's fine. Maybe this upcoming year will dig a deeper rut. But what if it doesn't? What if things actually continue to get better?

People fear being sad because of how it makes them feel. But people also fear being happy because of the chance it might be ripped away and leave you even sadder. Five minutes of sunshine before a three day thunderstorm. At least if you're sad all the time, you can accept that you will always have that baseline to rely upon. It is an acceptable way to live, people do it all the time, but it gets tiresome. I am tired of being sad, and I am tired of people making me sad. We all have choices, we all have chances. I'm going to take a chance for once, I'm going to make the choice I normally wouldn't. I'm going to try to be happy.

This may be for naught. The wax on Icarus' wings melted, and he tumbled down to earth. I might plummet back down to the hoary depths, which is fine, because I know them. But, what if, and bear with me for a second, what if I fly? What if I jump at the precipice, and somehow keep soaring? What happens then?

Pretty early on, I knew that I wanted to make the world a better place, and I knew that "the world" consisted of my friends and family. Unfortunately, that definition doesn't encompass me. So, we're going to amend that world to include me.

For my twenty-ninth year, I hope to make the world, my world, a better place.