It's Been A Liberating Year
A year ago, at this exact hour, I spent my night/morning sitting in The Waverly laughing and crying with David Siffert and my two favorite waiters. In a few hours, we'll pass the year since the first cup of coffee Len Jenkin ever bought me. A few hours after that, the first time Mark Dickerman and I shared a sandwich, the first conversation with Roxanne as more than a student, the beginning of my real friendship with Max Hencke. The first time Richard Wesley told me I was a daughter of the department and this was my home.
Today marks the beginning of half a semester of crying in Tisch stairwells, slipping in and out of the back of lecture halls. The semester I discovered you could lock the back bathroom and spend hours there unnoticed. The semester I stopped writing. The semester I fell to total pieces, stopped going to class, sat on the edge of more than a few rooftops, opened more than enough windows and tried to crawl out, swallowed more advil than I ever should have, threw away all of my knives. The semester Charlie Rubin resolved to know me after a late night outburst of tears. The semester I recieved keys to multiple offices. Spent numerous nights on the department futon. Dropped 30 pounds in a week.
I decided to die the day after my 21 birthday. I made the decision and spent an hour sobbing in my sister's bedroom, trying to will the breath out of me. I failed.
And despite all of this, this past year has been the best year of my life. It's the year I got my self back. The year I remembered how important I was. The year I got to work, found my voice, and became a better focus.
I learned who my real friends were, and what to look for in people to trust. I learned how to stand on my own two feet without needing anyone, anyone at all, to validate my existence. I don't need to rely on anyone anymore. Only me.
I travelled to a place I've never been and found a place I could perhaps call home someday. San Francisco was amazing, and a turning point. It proved to me there was a life worth living, that art was all that I needed, and that as a human being, I am full of love and deserve it back. I have a dream in my heart, and her name is San Francisco.
I went on the worst first date of my life at the exact point I needed it. I learned I could be wrong about people, and that was okay. It was not my fault if things didn't work out. And I could have fun, despit the absurd, and still share a beer with some frat boys on a train afterward.
I fell in love. No, scratch that, I'm falling in love. I'm clinging to the rock face waiting for the okay to let go. Because I rediscovered an opportunity over looked too many years ago. A safe but exciting love. A cautious but uninhibited love. I don't know if John is it, if he's the forever and ever, and I'm not ready to give my final judgement on that, but he's the right now. And even though he's 1000 miles away, I'm so lucky to have found him again and have him back in my life. And I'm so grateful that he doesn't want to close me off from opportunities out here before either of us know where I'll be in 6 months. We're enjoying the now, the silliness and ridiculousness of it all. I don't know if I'm going to be with him 5 years from now, but I can completely see him in my life 5 months from now if Chicago is the call. And were he to still be around 5, 10, forever years from now, I'm pretty sure I'd be happy with that, too. He's my rock.
I joined my favorite band, had a whirlwind and passiont relationship with my favorite musician, and dropped both in a manner where everyone was happy and still friends in the end. It was incredible. Seth and I are so close, even if we're not right for eachother. He still brings the best out of me and I respect him on so many levels. I'm so blessed to have him in my life, even if being more than friends isn't right.
I finished my thesis. Five years in the making, from inception of idea to draft. But for the first time in just as many years, I finished a complete draft, beginning middle end, of a full length. And it's good and it feels right and if anyone who hasn't gotten it yet who wants it, drop me a line and I'll email it off.
I figured out how to date like a normal person. Will and I are having a blast. We joke about how much more I'd like his brother but alas! He's at Bennington. We cook each other food, and watch movies, and have intellectual discourse, and tease each other. We listen to music and talk about writing, and go to plays, and laugh a lot. And none of it is serious. I like having my "secret" boyfriend. I like dating the boy everyone else wants and who everyone else thinks is available. I like that we're slick enough that no one outside of you reading this and Miss Liou know. I like that I could talk to him about all of this and that he understands, and that we both liked the idea of a spy-like relationship.
I started reading again. Like books. Like for fun. Like poety. Like I wanted to. Best decision of my entire life.
I think I'm ready. I'm here. I'm not going away.
Today marks the beginning of half a semester of crying in Tisch stairwells, slipping in and out of the back of lecture halls. The semester I discovered you could lock the back bathroom and spend hours there unnoticed. The semester I stopped writing. The semester I fell to total pieces, stopped going to class, sat on the edge of more than a few rooftops, opened more than enough windows and tried to crawl out, swallowed more advil than I ever should have, threw away all of my knives. The semester Charlie Rubin resolved to know me after a late night outburst of tears. The semester I recieved keys to multiple offices. Spent numerous nights on the department futon. Dropped 30 pounds in a week.
I decided to die the day after my 21 birthday. I made the decision and spent an hour sobbing in my sister's bedroom, trying to will the breath out of me. I failed.
And despite all of this, this past year has been the best year of my life. It's the year I got my self back. The year I remembered how important I was. The year I got to work, found my voice, and became a better focus.
I learned who my real friends were, and what to look for in people to trust. I learned how to stand on my own two feet without needing anyone, anyone at all, to validate my existence. I don't need to rely on anyone anymore. Only me.
I travelled to a place I've never been and found a place I could perhaps call home someday. San Francisco was amazing, and a turning point. It proved to me there was a life worth living, that art was all that I needed, and that as a human being, I am full of love and deserve it back. I have a dream in my heart, and her name is San Francisco.
I went on the worst first date of my life at the exact point I needed it. I learned I could be wrong about people, and that was okay. It was not my fault if things didn't work out. And I could have fun, despit the absurd, and still share a beer with some frat boys on a train afterward.
I fell in love. No, scratch that, I'm falling in love. I'm clinging to the rock face waiting for the okay to let go. Because I rediscovered an opportunity over looked too many years ago. A safe but exciting love. A cautious but uninhibited love. I don't know if John is it, if he's the forever and ever, and I'm not ready to give my final judgement on that, but he's the right now. And even though he's 1000 miles away, I'm so lucky to have found him again and have him back in my life. And I'm so grateful that he doesn't want to close me off from opportunities out here before either of us know where I'll be in 6 months. We're enjoying the now, the silliness and ridiculousness of it all. I don't know if I'm going to be with him 5 years from now, but I can completely see him in my life 5 months from now if Chicago is the call. And were he to still be around 5, 10, forever years from now, I'm pretty sure I'd be happy with that, too. He's my rock.
I joined my favorite band, had a whirlwind and passiont relationship with my favorite musician, and dropped both in a manner where everyone was happy and still friends in the end. It was incredible. Seth and I are so close, even if we're not right for eachother. He still brings the best out of me and I respect him on so many levels. I'm so blessed to have him in my life, even if being more than friends isn't right.
I finished my thesis. Five years in the making, from inception of idea to draft. But for the first time in just as many years, I finished a complete draft, beginning middle end, of a full length. And it's good and it feels right and if anyone who hasn't gotten it yet who wants it, drop me a line and I'll email it off.
I figured out how to date like a normal person. Will and I are having a blast. We joke about how much more I'd like his brother but alas! He's at Bennington. We cook each other food, and watch movies, and have intellectual discourse, and tease each other. We listen to music and talk about writing, and go to plays, and laugh a lot. And none of it is serious. I like having my "secret" boyfriend. I like dating the boy everyone else wants and who everyone else thinks is available. I like that we're slick enough that no one outside of you reading this and Miss Liou know. I like that I could talk to him about all of this and that he understands, and that we both liked the idea of a spy-like relationship.
I started reading again. Like books. Like for fun. Like poety. Like I wanted to. Best decision of my entire life.
I think I'm ready. I'm here. I'm not going away.