Anniversary

Let’s see. The complete degradation of my emotional drive. A re-evaluation of my character and spirit in context of losing sight of everything I held important and enlightening. Loss. Regret. Shame. Coming to terms with who I am without the context of close friends and family. Coming to terms with the realities of my decisions, realizing the consequences of them as they befall me. But finally getting my integrity back, having inadvertently grasped my destiny.

I was in awe one year ago stepping onto a new personal frontier, not aware of the darkness that was about to happen in the coming months. Initial pitfalls and an enexpected scramble for solid ground at the beginning colored an outlook I had to reshape about my life here in Houston. I buried myself in a depression that now realize spanned the good part of months of that year, with residual effects felt even now. Alas now I am just able to stand and finally start becoming the person I want to be, a year from when I felt on top of the world. Tough part of being on top like that is that it entails the hardest fall for those without a proper foothold. I guess when I hit bottom, I realized it was because I learned that I finally had to let go of a lot of … things.

This is an excerpt I came across in that time, given to me by one of my closest friends here, Andrea (thank you). It helped. Even for just a little bit. Even for just a little while. As did the rain. And some important phonecalls.

Being Twenty-Something

They call it the "Quarter-life Crisis." It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now. You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.

You look at your job...and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you. Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward. You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lay in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better.

Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself.....and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender!

What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out.

I'm moving again. Tomorrow in fact. And i'm okay with it. I feel like this apartment knows more of my darkness than many people in my life. Its seen the worst of me. It's kept me company and consoled me. It shielded me from the storm. And i pay it gratitude by leaving it behind. But it and I are not bound, in fact, we realize that though this "place" was and will always be important to me, it is an important part of what once was, and it's now time from something new again. Something different. But something just as important. It is true about my first home here in Houston, and it is true about a lot of things in life.*

I’d like to dedicate this year to perhaps the one person (second to my family) that really, truly and unselfishly helped me in my first year here, from the moment I arrived. Unrelenting support and humor is what you get from friends like this…the closest of very few people who you hold in highest regard, whose friendships you fiercely guard and defend, because you realize that the importance of that friendship is the thread that holds you hanging above life’s thorns. He helped me realize realities that would have come harder and tougher to bounce back from later on, made me acknowledge, without destroying my spirit, the consequences of the impulse of decisions, and the inevitable disappointment you find in the most unlikely of situations. He told me he was proud of me, and that I inspired him. He forced me to, despite the challenges that lay ahead and the emotional wounds of departure from State College and arrival in Houston, get up and begin the life I was so desperate to find here for a reason he never had to ask for. He knew I wasn’t doing well, and without asking or having me explain anything, he always just knew what to say, how to say it, or when not to say anything at all. He helped me realize things about the nature of people in my life. Taught me to let go. He assured me that those at home who were still important still supported me. His words rung with clarity in a time when my head was filled with discord and utter dread. He shortened the miles between here and home. And he promised, when he left, that I would never be forgotten…a promise I needed so desperately at that time, when the safety of a promise lay broken beyond repair.

And unlike many people in my life, he kept that promise.

Thank you, Paul, for making my anniversary a pleasant one.