It’s been 3 months, and you’re probably wondering where the hell I’ve been.
The curve of November’s lips curled into a frosted smile and I knew that it was time to begin again. Of course, I had no idea how (or why) I would do this. In a sea of splintered beginnings and sudden endings, it had been my strategy to float somewhere in between; avoiding the fumbling first impression, escaping the ‘fuck you’ that is the finale and making no waves of my own.
Fun becomes a foreign concept when you can no longer remember the last time you felt it between your fingers. Glee looked me in the face and I found it hard to make eye contact. I realized that I was purely and genuinely terrified of anything that caused my heart to swell. If it didn’t have a deadline, smell a little like dog shit or threaten to crush me under the weight of feeling dumb, I didn’t busy myself with it. Sadness sweetly serenaded me until it was the only sound I listened for.
I haven’t written because I didn’t know what to say besides that I was learning to enjoy life and sucking donkey balls at it. For every winning moment, there were 10 spent scared into wondering if I shat my pantaloons.
Happiness is a learning curve.
It’s not like learning to swim, or to speak French. It is something that I am literally breathing into what once felt like a lifeless vessel. It’s a whole new skin that isn’t nearly as thin. Sometimes I still feel guilty about wearing it. On these days I consider crumpled pajamas and a tear stained pillowcase instead.
This is why I make it a priority. This is why I no longer close the blinds. This is why there are affirmations on my mirror and scar tissue in my soul. I fucking deserve to be here.
For so long I have been so good at being so gone. My bleeding heart has been my fountain pen and I almost don’t want to know what I look like in the light. I have taken you on this journey and you have accepted my darkness, cradling it with your kindred spirit. When the splinters of sunlight came through, I wondered if I’d lose you.
I’m not sad anymore. I thought it meant that I wasn’t a writer anymore, either. In the midst of all of the awkward agony of getting to know ‘fun,’ I discovered that I’m quite a lot of fun, too. This inspired me to go forward with a new series, and I hope it finds a way to leave you fuzzy inside.
Here goes nothin’!