For a long time now, I have been searching for an explanation. A reason why things are happening or why my life has suddenly taken this path. In my struggle to know why, I have forgotten about me. I am not a bad person, nor am I not worth good and happy things in my life. Unfortunately, I so desperately wanted to know yet another explanation for the negative things in my life and lost track of all the good.

I have a lot happening. Maybe some of it isn't best but the longer that I sit around and try to figure out why it's happening, the more time I miss out on the good things in my life. The people that care, the advancements in my career, the development of new ideas and ventures and just taking each day as it comes.

I begin to wonder why it is I feel the need to concentrate so much on the bad things. It, in no way, makes me feel good and if anything, makes me want to crawl under the covers and call it a day. Everyday.

I heard someone say once, the negative is just so much easier to believe.

Why is it so hard for myself (and many other people, I'm sure) to focus on the good?

I like to say that I am a firm believer in that everything happens for a reason and as it should. This, in no way, means that what happens is always enjoyable and/or like-able but when it does happen like that it really is just simply amazing.

At one point this weekend, as I sat working, my phone alerted me to a message that was coming in. As I read the message, a smile grew from ear to ear. It was a message from a long distance friend who happened to be in town for work and wanted to see if I was available for dinner. What?! Of course I am! We hadn't seen one another for quite some time and I knew it would just be so great to catch up. We have the kind of relationship that we can go some time with out speaking but when we do finally manage to see each other, we pick up right where we left off. Updating each other on our lives, cracking jokes and the such. It was just what I needed at just the moment I needed it. We spent as much time together as we could because we both know that it could be a while before we would be able to do this again.

It was wonderful. To just be in the moment and enjoy each others company. For the time being, I allowed all the other crap going on in my life to take a back seat and enjoy the splash of refreshment that re-entered my life, if only for a short while. Turns out, seeing them again and having dinner, did more than just give a short reprieve from the nonsense. It showed me, yet again, that I will be ok. That I do have many people in my life who care about me and want only good things for me and my life. It showed me that, though it is few and far between these days, I will smile and laugh again on a more consistent basis.

It showed how complete a feeling it is to know that people will come and go but the true ones, the ones who care and who I care about will ALWAYS be able to pick up right where they leave off.

Alright, I admit it. I miss it. I miss having someone to come home to. I miss having someone to bounce things off of and someone to fall asleep on. I miss knowing that no matter what happens in my day, there will be someone to give me hug and tell me it will all be ok. These days, I have to pay someone to tell me it will all be ok and they don't even do that. I have to realize it on my own.

That's where I am in my life. On my own. It's a scary place and one that if I had the choice, I wouldn't be in this place. Well, wait, I guess you could say that I did have a choice but the way I see it, the choice has been made and this is just more like the consequences. Who ever liked consequences anyway?

I lay here and think about the nights I spent in his arms, some nights happy and content and others screaming for him to let go. Now I am laying here missing those arms to fall asleep in and wondering why I ever had those thoughts. I think that I am only having these thoughts simply because I am missing the option.

Perhaps I am being selfish.

Who knows.

I know I could never go back.

It's done.

We weren't in the right place together and perhaps not the right place apart either but that is what led to our demise.

I think.

I know it's for the best but I miss you and your arms.

When I was a child, I experienced something that, I can only hope, would cease some day. For a long time, I have been carrying it with me in hopes that it would just 'go away'. It hasn't and I have yet to accept it, though, I seem to be getting ever closer. I hope.

At the time, I thought that I was on top of the world. That nothing wrong could happen and that I was safe. Though I might not have necessarily been 'wrong' about feeling these things, they weren't really the feelings one might take out of a situation as such. What did I know? It has only been in recent months that I made the decision that what happened shouldn't have and I need to deal with it so I can finally put it behind me and move on.

So much easier said than done.

In my attempt, I have managed to drudge up some nasty feelings. Feelings that make me want to rewind time, put myself in a different place and try again. Everyone knows that can't happen but everyone also wishes they could from time to time. I know I have. Since that is not an option, I can only work through the nasty feelings that arise a bit at a time until all is said and done and I will only know this situation as the one in the heap behind me that I have moved on from.

I just wish there were some way to speed up the process but I suppose I should remind myself that, I have been holding on to this for at least 17 years so how could I imagine it could be dealt with in 17 minutes?

Patience, my child. Patience.

Transition

I have always wondered about transition. How does it happen? When? What do I do? Recently, I've learned that it just happens. It just is what it is and sometimes you realize it and sometimes, not so much.

As these days go by, the thoughts in my mind have been transitioning from 'what the fuck am I going to do!?' to 'Ok, I got this.I'm going to be ok'. It happens at the oddest moments, too. When I am doing the dishes and rinsing the suds, a thought passes. As I sit and try to lose myself in the monotony that is TV, another thought makes its way. As I wake up, stretch and attempt to start a new day...well you get the idea.

It doesn't ever bother me, when these thoughts happen. It excites me, actually. Gives me a sense of hope. Don't get me wrong, just as my luck seems to go, as soon as I have a thought as such, I go to my mailbox and find a bill from traffic court for an unlawful speedometer (whatever that means). Does it blow up my happy moment? Sometimes, yes but I have been trying to lessen the amount of time I let it bother me. Who would have thought that being in control and taking care of yourself would require so much effort and work? Perhaps as time goes on, it won't.

Who knows.

These days I often find myself thinking about my life. Where I've been, How I got here and ( I guess the only next logical thing) where am I going? The more that these thoughts pass through my head, the more confused I seem to get. I hope that one memory or lesson learned might give the answer for a new question/problem I might have but I have yet to have that happen.

I have been talking more, getting more involved, meeting new people and just, in general, attempting to leave my hermit hole that I has managed to keep me 'safe' 'till now. I have to say, for the most part, it has been good for me. The more that it happens, the more I think to myself, 'Why the hell have I waited so damn long!?'.

Could it be, as they say, everything happens in due time? Could it be that up until now I just haven't been ready or maybe it just took the current state of things in my life to shake me around and get me moving.

Another thing is, why am I always looking for answers? Why am I finding it so difficult to just accept things as they are and 'keep moving'? In talking to various people these days, I am often asked (or told) that. Why are you questioning it? So and so is not going to change. The situation is not going to be any different.

I thought it's a good thing to question things in life. Could it be that there is a fine line between questioning and obsessing?

As humans, there are times in our lives when the 'going gets tough', as they say. At these times, I think most us of get lost in our troubles and forget that there is a whole world out there.

I, myself, am the type of person who hates to see people struggle and in pain. However, I am also at fault for losing myself in my troubles forgetting that other people might too be having a hard time at the moment. I have gotten so caught up in trying to figure out and fix what is going on in my life that I have become a sort of 'hermit' to my troubles. Though, at times, it has been deemed very necessary in order to keep some sort of sanity so not to go completely insane!

For this, I am sorry.

In speaking to a friend, recently, I learned that as tough as things are for him at the moment another wall has been placed in his path. As our conversation progressed and he broke out a few smiles, I could still see the pain and exhaustion in his face. I could even see it in his hands as he rubbed his head. I know that there is little I can do to make his world better but at that moment my troubles seemed almost 'doable' and all I wanted to do was give him some sort of reassurance that things will be ok. Do I know that for sure? No but just as in my life and all the crap that is happening in it, I have hope.

Things will be ok, my friend.

Today I am listening to the sound of the falling snow and all I hear is the beating of my own heart.

There are moments when I find myself thinking about my life and how I got here. Depending on my mood usually determines my reaction to the state of things. Sometimes I am sad, sometimes angry and yet, at times, I am hopeful. The more days that pass, the more the 'hopeful' reaction seems believable. I find myself wanting so desperately to grab hold of the reins and run with it. As I explained to a friend of mine recently - I need to not think about it so much and jump in with both feet. Right now, I am in it but I still have the toes of one foot attached to the wall and I can't seem to pull them away. The fear of failure becomes paralyzing and holds on tight.

I heard someone say once - 'The walls are only there to let us know how much we really want something'

I really want it.

I woke this morning to the sun shining.

Moments later, I pulled myself from the warmth under the comforter and began my day.

In the process, I was caught by the light shining into the 'other' room.

It held me there and thoughts began to rush around my still sleepy mind.

In an instant, I saw you.

I saw me.

I saw us.

The light seemed to dance across the room and dress it in our dreams.

The dreams we made together but would never come to fruition.

Perhaps the light was there as a new reason for us?

To be a reminder.

A reminder that we are still us.

Us as you and me.

With that thought, I danced along with the light, felt it's warmth in a new way and knew, at that moment, it won't be dark but instead just fine.

Santa grows up

When I was smaller, Christmas was the time of year that I looked forward to the most. It was so magical. I remember going through the weeks before thinking that they are taking 'forever' to get to the end goal - CHRISTMAS! I couldn't wait for Christmas eve dinner to be with my cousins, laugh and play. Then when all was said and done, I would feel I 'had' to go to sleep as soon as I could but before I do - the cookies must be left out for santa with the note, of course. Can't forget the note. 'Dear Santa, Please enjoy these cookies and milk....'

Of course, being young, I absolutely couldn't wait for Christmas morning. I would run down the stairs and somehow still be convinced that Santa Claus himself dropped all these gifts off for myself and my siblings. It didn't help that all the tags were 'from Santa'! Regardless - it was here! Christmas day! Tearing through the presents was amazing. What was more amazing is that the 'big' gifts were addressed to 'Jessica, Brian and Kristen' (at times - my older sister would be involved in the gift) and we opened them together, stared in awe at them together and played with them - together. Ahh...those were the days.

Soon, it was time to head off to my Aunt's home for dinner and the next best thing was choosing something new to wear and one, small gift to bring with us. I imagine this is so we wouldn't be at the house, pacing and nagging to go home to play with all the new stuff! Whatever it was, the method kept us satisfied and happy. It worked.

Time to go home? Yes! Those were the greatest words I could hear! Back to my NEW stuff...

Then it happened. One year, as I was making my way through the sea of gifts, I found it. Hidden between two neatly wrapped gifts and almost under the couch, there was a cookie. A cookie set out especially for Santa himself! I picked up the cookie and said, ' I knew it' . I knew he wasn't real. Perhaps the cookie could have been dropped by the big man himself but I just knew. Something inside my little belly just knew. Still, I kept it to myself. I wanted to remain in the magical, fantasy that I have surrounded around Christmas until now.

Over the years, as I have grown, so has Santa. I am now one of his 'helpers' as I have been for quite sometime but I keep him real for my nieces and nephews. I watch them as they make their way through the overload of toys and clothes purchased by all of us helpers but sent to them from Santa.

Now I sit back and smile as I relive the magic of Christmas through their bright eyes and piercing (happy) squeals.

I still smile when I am handed a gift 'from Santa'.