I get emotional at good-byes. Ask anyone.
Anytime the seasons change, I get a little sentimental. Autumn begins in a mere 10 hours, and while I’m more than excited I’m also a little sad. Time is moving too quickly; before I can find my bearings and get my feet firmly underneath me it’s time to get moving again.
That’s life, I suppose.
Other seasons are changing, too. Justin and I have spent numerous afternoons and evenings prowling through jewelry stores, trying on engagement rings and discussing their pros and cons. We’re settling our lives together and seriously planning for a future. I’m learning to live with someone again, and slowly figuring out how to be a partner and how to take care of a house. There are road trips and airplane trips in the works, family to meet, new business ventures to attempt, and holiday plans to make. I’ve spent years watching friends and acquaintances enter into this phase of life, and I’m beyond happy that it’s finally my turn.
I felt slightly bittersweet when leaving my apartment. I was the first woman in my family to live by herself, and I learned so much about myself these past three years. I remember standing alone in my apartment, my last day, the last load of stuff packed tightly into my car. I looked around, memorized the way the sun came through the blinds and felt the soft carpet between my toes, and, turning to leave, I felt myself choking up.
But all I could think about were the wise words of CS Lewis, who always seems to sum up things so succinctly:
There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind.
Indeed. See you there.
No, this isn’t a September 11th post. There have been enough of those.
Ten years ago, I packed my bags and moved out of my house and onto campus at Oglethorpe University. I was a young and naive, both scared and desperately excited at the same time. It was the biggest thing that ever happened to me.
And it changed me. I look back now, as a 30-year-old woman, and don’t recognize that little girl. But that’s ok. That’s life. It’s how it’s supposed to be.
Coincidentally, 2006 also marked the release year for John Mayer’s Continuum. Now, I have loved John Mayer since I was 16 and heard No Such Thing playing on the radio at the small antique shop where I worked. His music continued to soundtrack my late teenage years, through crushes and graduation and first days of college. I wanted more than anything to write songs that sounded like his, and I feel that, somehow, I got close.
We’ve both aged these past 10 years. You can see the lines on our faces, the wear and tear, the questionable hairstyles (I’m finding more and more gray in mine as the days pass). But it’s an honor to mark an anniversary with something that meant so much to you. From the quiet Stop This Train that miraculously put my thoughts and emotions into words that I could never have combined to the haunting Slow Dancing in a Burning Room to my favorite, Gravity, the only John Mayer song to produce a line that I will one day tattoo on my body, Continuum was, to me, the epitome of John’s brilliance.
I’ll never find another you, Mr. Mayer. Here’s to the next 10.
Yesterday, I noticed several trees in the Kroger parking lot were beginning to turn yellow and red.
This morning, I feel distracted. Being freshly moved in, I haven’t experienced an autumn or winter in this house yet; it’s the perfect space for it, and I’m growing impatient.
My fellow brought me a dozen roses last night to celebrate our monthiversary. He’s been mine now for 17 months, and he is amazing at surprising me with random Tuesday flowers.
Dragon Con is in 8 days, though we have blocked off Wednesday for packing so it’s really in 7. With my inaugural year under my belt, I feel more prepared for my second Con, though I still need socks. Moving forced me to clean out everything, and turns out that my favorite ankle socks that I’ve had since high school have finally succumbed to age. I’ll go by Target on Friday.
I’m itching to get settled, which is why I’m heading down to the garage as soon as I finish this blog. I must organize. Unpack. Cross some things off my never-ending to-do list so autumn will find me fresh and ready.
Let’s do this.
So 2016 is half over, and I have been remiss. It seems when life gets busy and I get stressed, my personal writing falls to the wayside. But a change is coming – I can feel it.
It’s been well documented that there is one day in late July that the summer heat and humidity abates, if only for an afternoon. It’s happened again, last Thursday; the breeze picked up, I could take deep, outside breaths, and the afternoon light came through my windows in a clearer way. And with that, my brief affair with summer ended and my yearning for autumn began.
In the months since April, there have been beach trips, road trips up north (Baltimore!), and trips to the jewelry store for some ring shopping. I’ve picked up clients and dropped some. I’ve been published and am making contacts at national magazines.
Tomorrow is August 1. August, I’ve read, is like the Sunday of summer. The summer is coming to an end, the tides are about to change and good things are coming. All it takes is a short sleep and you’ll wake up with a new chance, a new beginning, and a delicious new season.
Occasionally, my blog calls to me, and today it called to me exactly three months after I last posted.
Forgive me. I have been remiss.
However, life has been moving at quite a clip these last months. I’ve picked up some more clients, dropped some others, and made some valuable contacts. I’ve attended fashion shows, Broadway productions, and more meetings than I can count.
I feel confident. Sure. Ready. Is this what being an adult feels like?
Who knows. But so far, 2016 has been pretty damn good. Let’s keep it up.