The run started out decent.  Once I hit my stride, it felt amazing.  There’s just this amazing feeling that courses through me when I’m running.  It’s this inner calm, a peace that I simply couldn’t describe to someone who hadn’t experienced themselves because it’s something that can’t be captured in words.  It’s just…this almost divine feeling that courses through your veins.

Before long, I found myself rounding the corner at about the mile mark and I wasn’t huffing and puffing.  I was working hard, but I was comfortable.  So I did what I thought was unimaginable.  I kept on going, the drums and guitar riffs mixing with the electronic choruses propelling me forward.  Before long, I had reached my neighborhood.  I came in the house, sweating and breathing heavily with probably the best feeling of satisfaction I’ve felt in a very long time.  I told my fiance that I had successfully run over a mile and a half and just the thought that I was halfway to running a 5K about took my breath away.

All I can think about now is getting back out there tomorrow to do it again.  Because I know I can.

I’ve grown so much in the past year. I’m proud of myself for the most part. I’m not proud of all I have done, but I am proud of most of what I’ve achieved. I’m engaged to a wonderful man, with whom I’m about to truly start my next chapter of life. Our chapter. I love my work. It’s grueling at times but it’s worth it. I work with some wonderful people (and some not so wonderful people) and nearly every day I’m excited to get up and go to work. I’ve got opportunities there.

In two weeks, we will be crossing the threshold into a beautiful house…a townhouse just like I wanted. It’s large and gorgeous and I couldn’t be happier. I have every room planned out and I cannot wait to get my hands on some DIY projects.

I’ve negotiated leases, dealt with problems, overcome obstacles, finished my teaching program (for the most part), and now my goals have changed from the material oriented to the self oriented. I’ve done some serious damage to my family and for that I’ll always be angry with myself. All I can do is work to repair that damage, although no one said it was going to happen overnight or be easy. Small steps in small incriments. That’s all I can do.

But for now, I’ll be grateful and happy that I have a beautiful home and a great job and a good relationship and wonderful friends. Its a wonderful life.

At the same time, I have him telling me he wishes to change jobs.  Ok…to being a firefighter…Ok…now I’m scared.  $4,000 later…will he be happy with his job?  Will he come home with a smile on his face feeling fulfilled for the day?  Will he even come home at all?  It’s like being back in the military minus the six month long deployments.  I trade those in for being in immediate danger every hour of every day he’s at the station.  I’ll be scared as hell, but proud at the same time.

Who can I tell?  Who can I talk to?  I don’t even know.  It’s just something I can’t figure out and, to use a favorite phrase, I’m treading lightly on both counts.  For one, the story keeps changing on the former.  The enthusiasm I thought would be there when coupled with my support is lacking on the latter.  So what does it all mean?  Are men just content with keeping to themselves and expecting us to tag along?  I almost feel like some little dog sitting expectantly in front of my owner, wagging my tail waiting for my treat that I know is coming…I just don’t know when.  Have I reduced myself to that?  Is white gold and a few diamonds really worth my sense of independence?  My sense of self?  I’m starting to think things would be easier if there was no “engagement” process and if men didn’t have the only socially acceptable way to propose.  Women know what they want and they don’t dance around it.  Most of us anyways.  For now, I’m just plain confused.

I pulled the sheets off of the bed we’d shared the last four days and threw them in the washing machine, pausing only to smell the sweetness of his scent on the pillow case.  I felt the lump appear again in my throat and fought to keep it down.  After I shut the top of the washer with a silence-shattering clang, I sat down to my computer, tears staining my face and burning my eyes while I signed on to Facebook.  As I read one of the saddest posts I’ve seen in a long while written by a friend from high school who had recently lost her fiance to a freak boating accident, I felt guilty.

How dare I feel so alone and like he was so far away from me…The truth was I WAS going to see him in three days.  I WAS going to hear his voice later that night saying he’d gotten home safe.  I thought about how lucky I am to have the person I love the most in this world a phone call away.  Our future was still attainable.  He was still within my reach.  How dare I feel so depressed over him leaving after spending the weekend together.  This poor girl’s post echoed the horrific scenario she had lived the last month.  Her love wasn’t a phone call away.  Other than whatever voicemails she had saved, she would never hear her fiance’s voice again, except for in her memory, which would slowly fade away with time.  But the hurt never will.  The pain of his absence will never dull.  My love had come out of a freak accident unharmed.  A fire that could have easily taken his life instead decided to spare it.  I had narrowly escaped her pain by seconds.  So how dare I feel so full of self pity.

In that moment, I felt so ridiculous.  Yet, at the same time, I realized this was nothing more than just another reminder of how much I had truly given myself to him; how much I had placed my faith, my heart and my soul in his hands; how much our lives were so intertwined that we’d never be untangled.  I stopped feeling like a shameless girl and more like someone who had discovered a depth of feeling she never knew she had.  I stopped feeling guilty and began to realize that the best thing I could do was wait to hear from him and tell him exactly how I felt as I watched him drive away into the darkness, my heart wrapped in his for eternity.

I thought I had…maybe once or twice over the last few years.  Truth is, I’d reached a state somewhat like that quietness within my soul that I so vehemently sought after, but I hadn’t transcended the last few states in order to truly say my longing for true happiness, for truth, for understanding of my life, had been silenced.  Over the last few months, I’ve landed on a path of self discovery (not to be overly cliche).  I’ve discovered more about myself, my wants, my dreams and my needs…my abilities and my detriments, my physical boundaries and my emotional depths, than I have when I was going through those “self-discovering” college years.

I had to step outside of the box, leave my comfort zone.  Do something other than focus on one aspect of my life.  I had to focus on myself.  I had to become involved in something that helped me gain not only identity, but self worth and through them, self-fulfillment.  It wasn’t about money, it was about purpose, about having some reason other than sitting around to get up out of bed every day.  Working, earning my keep, saving money for my future;working out and thus bettering my physical health, mental health and emotional health; and understanding that every waking moment didn’t have to be spend obsessing about one aspect of my life (even if it might be one of the most important aspects).

So, months later here I sit.  I truly KNOW myself.  I know what I’m capable of.  I know I can take care of myself.  I know I can reach my goals and make my dreams reality.  And in knowing, in believing, in taking time for myself and my needs and wants, dreams and goals, I’ve fostered a much healthier, happier life…which leads to a much healthier, happier relationship.  It’s a beautiful circle that keeps repeating, even if there are the occasional let downs, arguments and disappointments in ANY aspect of my life.

As I sit here tonight, feeling fully the adult of 23 that I am, I realize how lucky I am to have what I have and to have experienced what I’ve experienced the past few months and years of my life.  Some of those moments were darker than others, but some were moments that would shape the rest of my life as I am finding out today.  I’m realizing my dream of having money saved to do the things I want.  I’m creating my own home…step by step, metaphorical brick by brick, with a man whom I have been through hell and back with and now am on the path to a proverbial heaven with.  We’ve proven our worth to those who have doubted us along with to ourselves.  There’s no doubt in my mind that I can achieve whatever it is I want to achieve, be it a long and stable relationship until the day I leave this earth, building a home of my own, supporting myself, loving myself inside and out, or feeling like I’m making a contribution to this life and this earth and the people around me.

Consider my Nirvana realized.  That “inner peace”, truly, is no longer elusive but quietly enjoyed every day.

I blew up today.  It sometimes seems all I do is blow up.  I blew up because I care so very much.  I don’t let people hurt me.  I seldom let myself get that close to people because I know I get hurt so easily.  But, the truth is…over the past three years (if not longer since I’ve known him for five years now) I’ve let myself become so connected, so close, so in love, so inseparable from this man that I literally cannot picture living my life without him.  He has become my life.  And so, when things go wrong, it hurts…incredibly so.

I know fully well he doesn’t do it intentionally.  He doesn’t have that kind of heart.  I sometimes just think that he’s young…stubborn in certain areas, self centered at times…even self loving (though he downs himself, which he really shouldn’t).  I tell myself that I don’t have to be hurt, intentionally or not.  I tell myself I can leave at any time.  And I can.

But tonight, two things occurred to me.  One hit me like a ten ton brick.  The other is a more gradual discovery.

For one, I realize that he has a good heart.  He wants to do it right.  He wants things to be perfect or as close to perfect as they can get.  He doesn’t mean to upset me and when I do get upset, it becomes a cycle…I get mad, he gets frustrated and it turns into an argument.  It’s an automatic reaction.  We’re both working on it.  But, what stands out above all else is the fact that he wants me to be happy because his happiness is tied in with my happiness.  That speaks volumes.  It’s taking a while for things to fall into place completely, if they ever really do such a thing in relationships.  But, at the end of the day, I have a man who is a good person, who does work hard and try even harder to make things work.  Sometimes he gets wrapped up in his things and how he wants the relationship, but sometimes it takes someone pointing that out to reset a person’s focus.

Secondly, I reconnected with a friend recently to discover that her boyfriend of over a year or so (I don’t know the exact time length) was killed in a car accident by a drunk driver.  He was in his twenties.  I keep thinking to myself…I can’t imagine how that feels for her; to wake up every morning knowing that she’ll never see his face, hear his voice, feel his heart beat.  She’ll never wake up next to him, have him be the last thing she sees every night, talk about their future together, plan dates, enjoy watching sports or tv together, smell his skin, feel his warmth, hear his laugh, taste his kiss…all she has are her memories.  No future with him to look forward to.  I kept telling myself, I could walk away from this.  Thinking about how that would feel, I realize I could never walk away from this.  I pray to God every night to not take him away from me…by any means whether it be me or him walking away or whether He decides its his time.  I’ve come close once to the second, and I’ve come dangerously close to the first I know at least three times by my own volition…I am lucky to have the ability to spend the time I do with him.  It’s so grossly unfair that my friend has to go through such pain and anguish while I get to enjoy the sun and Christmases and family outings and nights and mornings with the person I love.

It makes me realize that while I do deserve to be treated as any woman, or any person really, should…I shouldn’t be so quick to snap to the “I’m leaving” line.  Once that line’s crossed, there is no coming back.  And from how heavy my heart feels tonight from the events of today coupled with the sobering news I stumbled across tonight, I don’t ever want to discover how it feels to wake up to nothingness…because that’s exactly how I’d feel if I did wake up alone…

So tonight, I sent the first email.  I bookmarked the first pages.  I took the first steps.  I don’t look at it as going back to school.  I look at it as continuing education; something I will have to do teaching anyway.  Yes, it means I have to take out a small loan to pay for the cost of the program…but in the grand scheme of things it’s incredibly small and easily paid off, especially since I’ll be working while attending the courses either online or in person.  I’ll get field experience and my name out in different schools so that hopefully, as a student teacher, I’ll get hired on at the end of my program after I’ve taken my tests that this alternative schooling route will qualify me to take.

It means I have to stop pushing for things for now.  I’m ok with that.  I should have been ok with that even before this.  But, it’s for the best.  We are as we are for a reason.  It will give us both more time to grow into this more, mature more, and be financially and emotionally ready for being truly “together”.  We are now, just not in namesake but I don’t need it right now.  I know I’m in the right place, I know I’m supposed to be with him and I know when the time is right, we’ll finally get there.  I have to “get right” with myself first…in mind, body and soul…in my job, in my appearance and in how I view myself.

So here’s to taking that first step of many into the dark that may someday and somehow lead to the light…here’s to the proverbial Indiana Jones “leap of faith”.

I’ve always found things to write about ever since I was young.  I write about whatever is bothering me, or whatever makes me happy.  I think I write for the same reasons why I like my photo album so much.  I can read something I wrote months ago and I’m immediately taken back to that time and place, feeling every feeling I did at the time the words were written.  I believe this is referred to as indexicality when discussing those effects of viewing photographs.  I like being able to do that.  My life has always been a good one, a happy one, and it’s been filled with some amazing people.  What better way to preserve their memory than to write it down on paper?

I find myself leisurely swaying along with each section, my breathing and heartbeat in rhythm with the timing and crescendos.  The fragility of this beautiful music is simply amazing to me.  How anyone could possibly write this, any human that is, is beyond my fathoming.

I close my eyes and more often than not I see a wide open room with white walls and bay windows surrounding me.  White sheer curtains rustle in the soft wind as it is invited in by the open window panes.  I’m sitting on a soft, plush white couch facing these massive windows as the sun, warm on my skin, pours through them from the cloudless blue sky beyond the walls of wherever I have found myself.  I can not only hear the highs and lows of each note, but also the soft, rhythmic crashing of those beautiful ocean waves on pristine white sands somewhere outside.  How peaceful.  How utterly gorgeous nature’s music is.  There is nothing like it.

While the happiness that the music brings me continues, there is a distinct presence of sadness in the melody–a sadness which reminds me that I cannot stay here in this hotel of my mind.  I have to return to the real world once the keys of the piano are no longer played by the angels who must have inspired such a creation.  Upon opening my eyes again, I am reminded that I am back to my own reality, in my own bed…eager to return to that mythical place somewhere in my vast imagination.

There are some feelings that are too powerful to express in words.  Those feelings and emotions manifest in silence and tears.  Not the bad kind of tears that are brought on by pain.  No, those tears which are brought on by one’s body’s inability to fully comprehend what you’re feeling.  Sometimes, you feel so much that your heart feels like it’s going to burst and so inorder to compensate for that, you get that lump in your throat and those salty tears blur your vision and come cascading down your cheeks.

This is one of those moments.  I think about everything that today means…growing a year older, having lived on this earth for now twenty-two years…Up until this birthday, I’ve never felt as if I was older.  At the moment the digital clock in the car glowed 12:00 am, I felt like I had aged in that second between 11:59 pm and 12:00 am.  My life as a child had officially ended.  One would think that that moment would have come back during my 18th birthday, but I would beg to differ.  I was still a child.  Even at 21 I was still a child.  But, at 22…now I realize I can’t be a child anymore.  I’m planning the rest of my life.  I’m leaving the world of academia as a student forever…never to step foot on campus again except maybe as a teacher.  It’s scary.  I sometimes find myself feeling as if I am forever falling into this black abyss with no sight of the ground.  I’m trying to grab onto something, but all my hands are coming up with is air.

Then, I realize this is such a childish thought, such a childish fear.  I can’t be afraid.  I have to reassure myself I’m intelligent, strong, determined.  I can do this, I can be an adult and take care of myself.  Now, I even find myself wanting to be on my own.  I want my own place, my own things, my own responsibilities.  My house as a home seems so foreign to me much more often than not now.  It is an unsettling though, but it is what it is.  I’ve outgrown my surroundings.  Sometimes when I am away, I feel as if when I leave that other place, I am leaving home to come for a visit here.  I know that isn’t true, and this will always be my home, but I cannot belabor the fact that within the next few months, I will be on my own with my own things and creating my own home…finally….

My dreams that I have dreamt for so long are happening before my eyes one by one.  It isn’t the sadness or the fright that makes me feel as I describe earlier.  It’s the happiness that despite those things, my dreams are coming true even better than I had ever imagined.  My life is coming together as I work towards my goals that are now becoming reality.  My reality.  My truth.  My life.  My beautiful, full, happy life.