When a new year arrives, nothing cements its status better than writing the date for the first time. This year, it happened to me quite early on, since I trotted into work on January 2, after a two day binge on Disneyland and doing absolutely nothing. I sat at my desk and between dealing with writers, editing and fumbling around on Twitter, I wrote the date down for some reason or another, and for the first time as far as I can recall, I didn’t mess up. I didn’t write “1/2/08.” I didn’t have to cross it out and fill in the correct year. I simply took my pen to paper and wrote out “1/2/09.”
It might have been trivial, but it was exhilarating, knowing that I had actually implanted the seed of ‘moving forward’ in my mind, rather than staying stuck in the past, or carrying on in the present. Although I had written the date of a new year correctly on the first try, I had long resolved before 2009 actually came to make some resolutions, or solutions, or goals. Whatever you like to call them, I decided to take action and have an impact on the long and winding road that is my life.
While I write here or watch television and especially when I am driving, or rather stuck in Los Angeles traffic, I feel like my mind might some day explode, because its reached its maximum capacity of occupants, like an elevator. I feel my hopes, my goals, my ambitions, my dreams and my fears float up to the surface and then I imagine feeling so full, so up to the brim, that I do explode, and hundreds of thousands of little neuron bubbles containing my thoughts descend to the pavement and desintigrate. Poof.
It’s a very overwhelming feeling and a frightening one too, to know that there’s so much you want to do, but don’t have all the time in the world to do it in.
I’m trying to change all of this in 2009. I’m trying to regroup and reorganize my thoughts and my wants. I’m trying to isolate them so they don’t collide and spill over. I’m trying to make sense of my purpose and of my life and of my future. Sometimes, it’s harder being younger, than it is being older. Finding your ground and establishing your existence and goals, that’s the hard part. That’s the battle. Not living it. Living it is easy, but people make it hard. But trust me on the sunscreen.
In 2009, I propose to drink eight glasses of water a day. I propose to take better care of my body and my mind, to think before I eat and look after myself. I propose to apply to graduate school, to get a degree in pursuit of my two loves, journalism and English, or both if I’m lucky. I propose to further myself through continued education, through the classroom and the professors that I miss, all the while knowing that knowledge truly is power. I propose to finally start writing more, to getting published in a national magazine, to keep faith in print, to write short stories and start on a novel, to do what I love. I propose to read more, because to write, you must read. I propose to travel, to London, to Oregon, to San Francisco and perhaps Seattle. I propose to save money and not let a pair of gorgeous shoes in the window persuade me otherwise. Mostly, after six years of being so far apart from each other, me in Los Angeles and him in London, I propose to make sure that starting in 2009, we’re never apart from each other again. I don’t know where we’ll be, but I’ll know this: that we’re together. Some day, when I’m feeling particularly brave and open, I’ll share our complete story here, piece by piece. But for today, suffice it to say that someone in this world loves me very much and that I love that someone just as much. There is someone I can’t live without, even if I tried, someone who’s seen my good and my bad, who wants to spend his life with me – someone who packs my luggage and prepares my breakfast while I sleep, someone who makes me laugh beyond words, someone who was made for me, someone whom is the longing for the half of myself that I lost, when God decided to split people in two. Yea, I love him, and that love I feel for him, words can’t even do it justice. Happy New Year, here I come.
