the truth is... well, the last two months have been poignant. not because my mother was in them, or because everything has fixed itself. but because i have made decisions. and not just make them. take action on them.
in december, i celebrated my 29th birthday. for the very first time in years, i spent it exactly how i wanted. compartmentalized all my friends into the events i wanted them to be a part of. didn't even blink an eye when two of my supposed best friends weren't even there. it didn't bother me. i felt something in me letting go of all that concern. somehow, i had decided that this was my last birthday in new york. and i told them all that. whether they wanted to be a part of it or not was their own issue. i spent the weekend with the people that i wanted, and did exactly what i wanted without the burden i often put on myself of trying to make it easy on everyone else.
new years was the same thing. told the two people i cared about to come over and we'd make dinner and watch the ball drop while watching movies. and that was that. quiet. simple. not the stupid annoying house party in the city that most people would have gone to. just what i wanted. what i needed.
i knew in my heart that this was my last new years here. and 3 days later, i sent an email off to the vp of my company, asking about transferring near my brother down south. word came back that i can leave whenever i want, and i've set the date for two months from now. somehow, i'm still amazed i had it in me. i had a small panic attack last week as i called to ask for a moving date in april. suddenly freaked out that i was leaving all my friends, most of my family, and the life i've been living for five years.
but now, now i feel excited. free. giant weight off my shoulders. like now that the action has been taken, i can take a deep breath and just start planning my life out a little more than it has been planned out in the past. a shiny new start to my life as a belated birthday gift. no more treading water, or waiting for something to happen.
no longer waiting for my life to bloom like irises.
the only thing i hate is this dread. dread that my mother will show up and fuck it up. dread that i'll never forgive her. dread that she'll follow me there. dread that i'll never see her again. i'm worried about her. she deleted her blog so i can't check in on her that way. and i haven't heard a peep from her in a month. it's almost... too quiet. sick, isn't it? i don't want anything to do with her, and i still can't help wonder if she's ok. wonder if she's sick and homeless, or hospitalized? or imprisoned? but i want to keep moving forward. not look back. not keep myself shackled to this life. the workaholic life that kept me breathing, dealing with the trauma of losing her like that. i have spent five long years paying penance for something i didn't do. i don't want to punish myself anymore. i don't want to refuse myself foward-motion, just because i'm afraid of where she is.
this is going to be more than just a new year. it's going to be a new approach to my life, and my acceptance of the grief and the loss. it's going to be a new chapter in moving on with my life, and without her in it.
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