...and I feel like I should have something Big To Say. I do, but I'm so bone-tired I just can't put the words together. I'm feeling a wee bit more than out of sorts this evening. I'm still riding the hormonal roller coaster, I haven't caught up on rest from my 48-hour jaunt to San Francisco (which took over eight hours to get to as they shut down the 5 on Thursday), and I've been cooking and cleaning all day in preparation for tonight's party.
The problem with New Year's - with any big holiday - is that it's a definite marker. You might not remember what you were doing three Thursdays ago, but you generally remember what you were doing on New Year's. Last New Year's I was sitting by the water in French Polynesia while I watched the boy I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with fall apart in front of me. There were problems before the trip, but for some reason we thought maybe we just needed time away. Or at least that's what I had thought. The trip was sublime until New Year's Eve, where I had asked A. to dance with me just once (he hated to dance) and when I tried to get him to stay out for just one more, he went from zero to furious in sixty seconds. Never having seen him so angry, I walked away, only to have him grab me by the arm and yank me backward. He didn't really hurt me, but he could have, and I think the realization was just too much to take.
It's been a year since that day. I'm in a different house, one that's quiet and calm and happy. I'm with a different boy, one who is sweet and kind and open. I'm leading a different life, one that's not as financially secure or predictable than the one I used to live, but it's mine and I love it.
I wish I could explain why I'm sitting here alone in my bed, tears streaking down my face. Maybe I'm just just tired. Maybe I'm just overwhelmed. Or maybe it's that I'm just realizing that I had the worst year of my life, and I made it through to the other side.
Happy New Year's everybody.
