There’s something about the holidays that desperately seeks to remind you of the fact that you’re missing someone to share your life with.
The friendships that safely cocoon you throughout the year are ripped open by lovers, paramours, and family.
You know what it’s like for me, the weird only child. The only options for the holidays were
- Spend it with my parents and enjoy a few moments of happiness, while tip-toeing on eggshells, waiting for the big blowout to come.
Then I met you, and the rest of my chosen family. And it finally felt like I’d found my own home.
But we’re growing up. Moving countries, starting families, getting busy, and just organically drifting apart.
It’s been so evident these last two years. Watching the people I love sharing the last few days of the year with the families they love; seeing them slip into the new stages of their lives, as I hold on to hope that maybe one day I can have that.
But hope is harder to hold on to when all you have is a string of temporary connections.
Yet the thing is, I’m not sad this year (not as much as I should be anyway).
I used to mourn the talking stages, the whithered friendships and close almosts, pondering what ifs and missing what was.
This year, as I look back, I’m just grateful for all the wonderful people I’ve gotten to experience. (Not the awful ones, they do not exist to me).
The boy who saved my life and played me Bossa nova for the first time – now I listen to it most mornings to start my day, and we share the best hugs and the rare occasions when I see him.
The girl who got me to get back behind the wheel. I just wanted to be able to pick her up, but now we no longer speak – but I don’t have to battle Uber anymore.
The boy I kissed on New Year’s. I thought he would be in my life forever, and he probably will. He taught me how to let love evolve, and while I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with him, I can’t imagine my life without his friendship.
The hopeless romantic in me has so many firsts:
Watching the sun come up on the beach over the water, slow dancing to jazz, stealing kisses in an arcade, more flower bouquets than I knew what to do with; and the raves, oh so many raves.
I laughed so much, maybe more than I cried.
I learned how to put myself out there.
I learned how to let go, and say no in moments of discomfort.
Don’t even get me started on all the great food.
Each new connection awakened a part of myself that I didn’t even realize existed.
And it hit me,
I haven’t yet experienced all the love that will find me in this lifetime.
More beautiful moments await me, (and yes, painful ones too).
There are so many exciting firsts and experiences I haven’t even imagined waiting for me.
A new song, a new friendship, more laughter (and tears) – I can’t wait.
So maybe, I’m not falling behind, just slowly making my way through the experience that is love.
Here’s to more time together,