My Resolution

2012 has not been kind to me or to those I hold dear. It has been 12 months of pain, sickness, disappointment, and grief. From the loss of jobs to the loss of loved ones, many of my friends are desperate to welcome a new year and leave the wreckage of 2012 behind as a forgotten season - cold, dark, and finally over. I count those friends as kindreds, for this past year has truly been one of the hardest of my life. I won't exhaust you with the details of my struggles over the last 12 months (and believe me, I know many have faced much worse than I), but I can confidently say that it was a year of loss.

As much as I am eager to step into a new year with renewed hope and fresh perspective, something keeps prompting me to take the time to forgive 2012 for hurting me and so many that I love. While I know that it's impossible to hold a calendar year responsible for my trials, it's also impossible to reconcile with each person, decision, and event that contributed to such a difficult season. So this exercise, while symbolic, serves to help me reconcile with myself and with the events of 2012 as a whole so that I can enter 2013 unencumbered by bitterness and fear. I welcome you to join me as I forgive and release 2012.

So, here we go ...

2012, I forgive you for the loss of ...

... my jobs - one of which gave me more happiness and purpose than I have ever known.
... my health - for keeping me from living my life and being with those that I love.
... my pride - for robbing me of my ability to protect myself and those around me from pain.
... my security - financial, physical, emotional, and mental.
... my confidence - for causing me to second-guess every decision I make and every relationship I have.
... my hope - for all those months spent feeling completely devoid of hope, unable to conjure it up in the smallest form.
... my strength - for weakening me in every single way and causing me to feel helpless.
... my sleep - for making me afraid to close my eyes because I couldn't be sure if I would wake up in the hospital or not wake up at all.
... my memories - for stealing the memory of some truly beautiful moments with those that I love and making me feel so lost without understanding why.
... my purpose - for making me feel like even the smallest tasks were insurmountable and that my dreams were unattainable.
... my peace - for stealing every ounce of security in my life so that all I felt was anger and fear.
... my relationships - for making it impossible for me to relate to those I love in my normal way but more so for making them feel like they lost me - like I was a different person.
... my self - for making me afraid that I would never be the same again - that I was not only lost to my loved ones, but lost to myself.
... my joy - for sucking the light out of my eyes and life, so that my laughter was hollow and smile was forced.
... my trust - for making me afraid to be honest with my friends and family, convinced that they would be somehow infected by my struggles.
... my energy - for exhausting me, leaving me too defeated and tired to fight for my own health.

... and finally, 2012, I forgive you for what you've done to my friends and family. I forgive you for stealing their health, joy, hope, peace, strength, and security. I forgive you for taking their loved ones away and I forgive you for forcing them to watch, helpless, while the people they care about struggle and grieve. I forgive you for exhausting so many of us and I forgive you for making us afraid that 2013 will be anything at all like you. 

But there is one thing I'd like to thank you for, 2012. Thank you for breaking my heart, my spirit, and my pride. Thank you for forcing me to accept the support, love, and help of my amazing friends and family - thank you for giving them so many opportunities to be strong when I was weak. Defenseless and broken, I had no choice but to let them show me that I don't always have to hold myself together because I'll find strength in them when I need to fall apart.

2013, I welcome you with open arms and I promise to try my best not to punish you for the events of 2012. I promise to try and cultivate healthy relationships that will help to rebuild all that was lost over the last 12 months. I promise to allow you to bring new hope and purpose to my life and I promise to be open to people and experiences that will make this a year to remember and not a year to regret.

But mostly, 2013, I promise not to drag the fear, failure, and disappointment of 2012 around with me for another year. I accept responsibility for my part in the events that marred my year, and I forgive and release anyone else involved from the expectation that they make things right through words or actions. It's over now. What's done is done.

The year is new, and so am I. 

Whispered

Tonight, as James hugged me, he sighed happily and whispered:

"My love. My match. My dream girl."

I Don't Wanna Grow Up

Anyone who knows me well can attest to my silly, child-like nature. While less frequent since I turned 25, I still have episodes of completely random and unprovoked silliness, usually taking a physical form and causing me to skip or even run with excitement during a decidedly mundane activity. Recently I was shopping with James and a friend of ours in Wal-Mart when I was overcome with the need to release some child-like whimsy. James had taken a seat on a bench while my friend was paying for her purchases and, as I watched him occupy himself on his phone, a lovely thought crossed my mind, "I don't have to pretend to be classy and mature. I can be hyper and ridiculous and completely immature and he'll totally dig it." With that thought in mind, I approached him excitedly, plunked myself down on his lap, and proceeded to conjure up the most ridiculous Christmas list possible: "I want a lifetime supply of crystal meth, hair extensions for my Furby, a green card for my penpal Saddam ... Oh! And I want a pony - but not one of those little ones. I want a big ass pony named Elmer - that way I'll never run out of glue." Laughing, James wrapped his arms around me, told me he loved me, and kissed me. Sliding his arm under my legs, he then lifted me up in his arms and started spinning us around in a circle. In that moment I felt completely, 100% happy. I had approached him assuming that my immaturity would amuse him, but I didn't expect that he would join me in my insanity.

I am forever grateful for James' sense of fun and adventure. There's something so wonderful about watching him devise new ways to entertain himself or others, and there's something so freeing about knowing that I don't need to hide my true self from him. What others find immature, he finds endearing. At the end of the day, James truly delights in anything that makes me smile or laugh - which, I suppose, is why he's my constant source of joy and one of the happiest people I know. **As I was typing this post, James sent me the following message that just happens to suit my final sentiment. **

"I love my life with you. I'm so so happy. I will try my hardest to make you happy for the rest of our lives together."