I am so (utterly) disappointed to say that I've not written in some time now. Just a few days away from writing nearly kills me. So, a few weeks time away? I might as well be six feet under.
All dramatics aside, I've had a mostly legitimate reason for not writing:
Lots has been changing around these parts, and it's been fantastic.
Difficult, in the one way newness can feel heavy in unfamiliarity.
Good and well,
and so very difficult.
It's been one week in the new studio, and already I'm learning more about what I'm able to accomplish.
Sleeping alone in my own place, for one.
There's been new friends in my life, also, which first came with the relinquishing of old friends -- a heartache all its own, and yet I am adjusting to letting go and learning to trust only those who warrant it.
Perhaps it's the new folks in my life who mostly make the whole Los Angeles thing seem ridiculous.
Just yesterday, I found myself at an amusement park with three of them, when just three weeks ago I didn't know two of their names, and the one whose name I did know, I did not prefer whatsoever.
Yet, there we were: a weekend spent together -- happy, learning, existing.
Everything about my life in Los Angeles reminds me of what I could have never dreampt up myself.
There is also someone whose personhood I am deliberately choosing to avoid on here, out of privacy for him, and also because I have a pattern of not writing about the men who are different from the rest.
I'll tell you anything you need to know about a love or interest that is fleeting -- I like to watch it as I white knuckle the pieces with one last effort, or as the seams slip through my fingers in defeat.
I like to remember the build up before the crash -- how the world couldn't possibly feel any faster or more adventurous...the night before the morning, which always tells the truth: that he just isn't right.
Yet, when they're different--when he's different--all of the words fail me, and my hands become occupied in tending the very thing I want to see grow above all the others.
So, that is where I'm at.
Trying to grow myself in this new home, which comes with new rules of adulthood.
Trying to grow my friendships, weeding out the ones who deserve to be around and the ones who cannot see past themselves (which, unfortunately, runs high here in Los Angeles).
And, trying to grow the part of myself who needs to trust in the good stuff of life -- the risks that make or break a heart, though either way will grow and teach it.
He has such handsome eyes,
and generous ways,
but most importantly, I have never laughed more in my life than I have these past three weeks.