Yes. The blogging project isn’t coming across as well as I’d hoped. I’ll catch up again soon. I promise.
Meanwhile, I’ve begun dating again in earnest, meaning not settling for half-measures and only agreeing to dates with people who meet my standards. Today was a beautiful example: brunch near the High Line, lounging near the Hudson in the grass, and feeling real parity and respect and understanding for the first time in so long it was down-right refreshing.
And there’s other things, too: a more regular gym schedule and an expanded social life (with friends) that veers toward the spontaneous now that my evenings are a bit more freed up. Turns out that losing that one freelance gig because I wasn’t producing enough because the married guy was causing all sorts of disruption in my life was a good thing. (Though, of course, I miss the money it brought in.)
I’ve finally cleaned and organized my room, I’m going on regular movie outings, I’m getting a more consistent sleep schedule, and — best of all — I’m loving a rewarding job that I worked very, very hard to get.
Speaking of which, I can’t share the details just yet, but suffice it to say that I’ll be moving up in the company come May 1st, a move that was theoretically supposed to come after I’d been there a year. Ten months ahead of schedule ain’t too shabby, and it’s extremely fulfilling in ways I can’t even begin to describe.
To top it all off, my son arrives from Chicago tomorrow, the first time he’ll visit me in NYC since August 2012.
When things are bleak and even the idea of hope seems like a fool’s gambit, these sorts of happenings seem so far away as to be impossible, if not imaginary. But in those dark times—and there were many more than I would have wanted—I never had a Plan B, and I always told myself that whatever happened it would only be the middle of the story.
The good times now are also probably part of the middle of the story. I’ve been through enough misfortune to know that there is never any end to suffering, only respites of varying degree. But I am grateful today that I never did have a Plan B, because it kept me on the path of what I knew I wanted to do and be and become. I’ve worked really, really hard to get where I am today, and though it’s a far cry from where I want to be, that’s okay. It’s still just the middle of the story… and this chapter is a particularly lovely and satisfying one, which I probably deserve after the horrors of January and February.
So bear with me as I settle into a slightly better sort of life and adjust to being the fabulous person so many people have seen in me but I’ve failed to recognize. I may be 40 years old, but this new chapter most certainly makes me feel as though I’ve just begun to come alive.