It’s New Years Eve and so it’s time for the predictable end-of-year-recap, the grunts and groans over the years many mishaps, few blessings, and an abundant list of resolutions. For many, the new year is a new start…the opportunity to look forward and forget the mistakes made…an attempt to get things right. For me, it’s my second coming.
My life was pointless until my son was born. For anyone that knows me and knows how little direction I had in my life before his birth, you know this is the absolute truth. Before my boy picked me, I was nothing. I was an empty vessel with no purpose.
And then he came into the world and the blinders came off. I’ve still made many mistakes along the way but my heart has shifted in ways I never thought imaginable for the likes of me.
The other day, I sat on a bar stool and order so food to go. The bartender asked how I was doing. The typical response came out…the one you say when you don’t really feel like divulging that life is shitty but it has to go on. She asked if I had any new plans for the upcoming year. “Not really. Already thinking about my boys birthday, gotta get through mine and then it’s business as usual.” She gave the ‘oh joy, your birthday’ look, to which I said I was excited about, though I have no idea how to celebrate. She asked how old I was turning and I said 30. She gave the typical “you don’t look 29” response and asked if I was nervous about turning the big 3.0.
I’ll tell you, just as I told her…I’m excited to turn 30. Did I ever think I would have made it to 30? Not really. To be honest, I didn’t think I would have survived this world. Hell, I’ve tried to end my own life too many times to count…I suck at it apparently but hell if I didn’t try. Nothing ever told me that I would still exist three decades after my birth.
I’m excited to turn 30 because I still have hope. Despite everything that has happened…actually, because of everything that has happened over the course of the past year, my hope has grown that much more. Because in my heart, I believe that the war I have faced happened for a reason and I have survived it for a reason. The fight is not over, I’m sure. It’s probably only just beginning. But the hope in me says it’s my turn to see the bright side. To have some peace in my life. To have the happiness I’ve been searching for my entire life.
2014…turning 30…it’s my chance. And though I have that terrible feeling that this is like the moment in American Beauty when Kevin Spacey is all sorts of complete and then he gets his head blown to bits…I’m still looking toward the future. No day is guaranteed. Hell, this could be the year my life ends. But if it is…whatever date is my final one…I’m going to do something I haven’t done for the past 29 years. I’m going to live until I die.
Goodbye 2013. You kicked my ass but you taught me so much about who I am and what I can endure. I can only hope your sister is a little more kind, merciful, and nurturing. I guess we’ll find out.
This is not about a new chapter in the book of my life. This is about writing a new book. With no co-authors, no outside influences, no forced boundaries. This is my book. Written by me. I don’t know if it will be an article, a poem, a novel, or a short story. But whatever it is…it will be mine until the final word is written.