, , , , , , , , ,

[I just MUST get rid of these old drafts that are piled up in here. This, as you’ll be able to tell, was written in that awkward time between knowing I was moving to Denver, and the date I actually left. I was obviously pretty broken at the time, and it’s time for me to just let this one go].


I was one of those girls who became obsessed with Sex and the City once they had the means to watch it. I didn’t have HBO when it was originally on and I suppose at that time I was probably too young to watch it, but eventually I moved out my own, had HBO on demand and caught up through every single season in the matter of a summer or so. Since then I’ve seen every episode multiple times, and when I find a friend who is as familiar with the show am I am, we often have conversations about incredibly specific things within the show as if we were there. We can quote conversations, make references to characters and their deep insecurities or their own quirks, we remember the outfits, the shoes and the hairstyles.

We all have our opinions about the characters on the show. Almost everyone has their opinions, even people who never took the time to watch the show long enough to get past the dirty details.

Each episode consisted of a big thought by Carrie who would write a column about the theory at hand that day. It was almost always based on love, sometimes friendship, sometimes work or independence; but love was always a factor.

Most days, I feel like Carrie. Except unlike Carrie, the topics I want to write about can’t be formed into words. Not today at least. Lately, words have been hard to find about most topics in my life.

Anyway, even though I feel like Carrie and I feel the blog posts rolling around inside of me, desperate to come out, I also feel completely numb about anything worth talking about. It’s all all my feelings about everything in the entire world right now are squashed. My body feels 76% excitement for Denver. I’m getting incredibly anxious to just get there already. Then about 22% of me just feels angry. Angry about all the things that have led me to where I am today. I should be happy about most of them, but unfortunately they’re mixed into the storm and I’m just plain angry. Everything else in the entire world is stuck in that 2%. Everything. It’s all jammed in there, and it’s such a blur of everything  that I can’t even feel it. I know it’s there, it’s on my mind. But it’s definitely numb. My happiness within those things are still happy feelings, but they’re small. My smiles are smaller, my laughter is quieter.

I can’t explain the anger. It’s just there. I’ve spent most of the last 6 years happy. Happy about everything and anything. I was given a second chance at life, at myself, and I have embraced it. But now, now that I’m finally getting almost exactly what I’ve worked for in these last six years, the anger over recent changes is just overpowering. I’m okay. I am. I’m not outwardly mad, I’m not shouting about it. But there is a ball of emotion deep inside of me, and it grows due to circumstances I can’t control.

[back to now…]

I’m not even sure what I was trying to really get at here. I felt like Carrie, ready to write it out, spread the words, the wisdom that comes with being my age, and yet the immense naivety involved in growing up and moving on. I’ve obviously moved on from this point of fear and anger, and I’ve moved on to the happiest I’ve ever been. But even though change is scary, it’s amazing when embraced.

Embrace change. Let go of anger. Move on.