Friday, June 24, 2011


I've always wanted stories ("for the kids", I say). In the past year, I have realized I have a BOATLOAD of them. I have also realized that, while not everyone has the library I do, there are also many who take the city library over my township one. My stories, not all pleasant - and others growing out of people trying to even out a life that was brimming with WTF moments from the age of conception - are quite unique at times. Honestly, I really thought everyone went to Pow-Wows and taxidermy conventions as kids.

Turns out: Not the case.

I know I've talked about my last (serious) relationship a lot on here, but it is with good reason: It was truley life changing. I loved more than I knew I could. And then I fractured more than I thought was possible when it came to someone who wasn't blood. My heart broke: And then I found myself. Or regained what I knew and moved on, attempting still to become who I am (becoming more aware this process is always far from over).

Even before it was over began, I knew I wanted more stories. When I entered it - shortly out of my nearly 3 year relationship with the one before - it was with hesitation, because I wanted to "just be single", I knew I was missing that time of it just being me. I tend to be very partnership oriented. (I am a libra afterall.) Even in all of the love that I felt, I still questioned what it would be like to have the very Sex and the City Carrie time, to be alone. To fail alone. To succeed alone. To cry alone. To laugh alone. To live alone. To be alone; with no one to answer to, no one to care if I didn't come home at night.

Typing that just now sounds scary. But, my lord!, liberating. Free. Independence! As humans, to understand ourselves, to love ourselves - and then someone else - I think this is an inheirent least for me it was. Is.

I spent my time in that relationship accepting that in order to be with this man that I loved, I was giving up the part of 20-something life I wanted so much to live first. I wanted the stories. MY stories. Not the ones the decisions of my parents - and grandparents - made for me. Granted, I love my library of youth, but this is my time, and I couldn't be more grateful to have these moments of struggle and strife and OMG! how am I going to do this, and I did it! and I'm alone and happy and I'm me. This is my life - and I'm making my stories.

And while I may not have money and a Scrooge McDuck fortune sized pile of debt, in this exact moment, my feet (and tires) are itching just to get away. And it doesn't take airplanes and money to make life worth living, worth telling about. I don't even care where I go: I just want the story. The freedom. Cause, while it might seem frivolous...I fucking can. And that's awesome.

My life is mine. All mine. And I'm collecting my stories.