29 is Mighty Fine

Well folks, I am about to be 30.

The age when I probably should be pregnant, at Home Depot, doing a lot of things that romantic comedies tell me are next. I should have my own house (not a rental, as it is currently) and certainly should not have a possum in my hallway wall waking me in the early morning hours and driving my dog to lunacy as she licks the wall in a whimpering frenzy.

Yet, here I am, in Austin, TX, May 22nd, 2016, writing by the light of DOY light strands with fabric bows on a table constructed by a dear friend.

It is hard to believe how much has happened in this little life of mine. How many people I've met, loved, lost and seen blowing in afternoon breezes even years later. I have known for most of my life that I would not do things quickly, or earlier. Much like the Dixie Chicks singing "Taking the Long Way Around" I too, have taken a long, beautiful, muddy path, but oh how how I have loved the joy of my feet getting dirty!

Let me take you back a little....since the last time I wrote you.....I was in love for the second time in my life. It was bright, fiery, and in the end, one that hurt and burned every outer layer of skin I had. It rocked me, the way you've heard Gotye's melancholy voice vibrate through your bones, and I could not eat (I know...shocking), could not sleep, basically all my favorite things. I literally dropped to my knees, asking God why he made me meet that man, made me go through such suffering, why he had to say the things he did about us, about our future.


Then, in the most miraculous way, I got up. Not like a Phoenix or anything mythical, more like a wet cat that has emerged from a rusty drain pipe. I started running again, blasting Taylor Swift, and really thinking about all the things that could have never worked. All the ways he had worn me down in our relationship, taken taken taken from me, and realized that people can be very, very cruel to each other. That, I am blessed to admit, was a first for me. No one I have ever loved, or who has loved me, had ever been so completely, and utterly, cold. Most amazingly though, was finally finding peace that what happened was exactly as it was meant to be. That I was spared from something that never would have been enough, and would have been the slow kind of suffering that is hardest to slip away from.

Turns out, Taylor Swift knows her shit about break-ups....who knew?

So in the fall, I said YES to everything. YES to craft beer, festivals, ACL, trivia, running, wine nights, cuddling with Amelia, football games, flirting with new guys and realizing that life  being single was just as juicy as I remembered in my early 20's, since truthfully, it had been a while since I'd been back in the game.

Except, this time, it was juicier.

Now I really know who I am, and the parts that still do befuddle me, I have grown to love, and encourage all their mischievous ways.

The hardest question for me wasn't, "Will I find love again?" believe it or not. The hardest question was, and remains, "Why do some people have to get their heart broken SO MUCH, when others find their first love when they're young?"

This is a tough one. I will never know the answer. However, I will say this, I have learned, and been humbled by the fact, that everyone has their challenges, no matter what it appears on the outside.

Why did I have to go through TWO major break-ups in one year, while others I knew honeymooned, moved in together, had babies? Perhaps I will never know.

BUT-

I have never felt stronger in my entire life. Women who meet their first love in high school, college, etc. can't know what it feels to take on the world BY YOURSELF after a terrible break-up, one that takes a melon-baller to your insides, scoop by scoop, until you have to fill all those parts of you again.

So, where am I at, in late May, as my 30th birthday looms just a mere three weeks away?

I will say this. I have never, ever felt more terrified, excited and ready for everything life has lying ahead for me. I am more astounded now, than ever,  by the beauty in people, though they can hurt you, and more ready than ever to let the good ones in and trust that God has made me tough enough, and given me enough Beyonce albums, to get through anything in this world.

I have also realized that with family, friends, one pound pup, and running, that one can stare up at all the stars and know that one day, she might just get one, but even if she doesn't, the grass blanket beneath her will always be enough.

I will leave you with one of my favorite poems I wrote when I was 20, on the crumbling cobblestones in Prague, as the apple trees exploded with blooms in April. I like to think that then, I was building strength, for times like this past fall, when I need to be reminded what gumption felt like....and it is sweet to remember the times when I would have given anything in the world to actually know what love feels like.

I have known it three times, and for that I should be grateful. And, hopefully this new one, is the one that I can drape over my shoulders and cradle, for the rest of my days.

Wriding

I have wild horses
panting and pounding
all the angles of me

They are beautifully unhinged
no kind
of saddle to sit upon
I don't wish
to reign them in

The rope leaves marks
 on small hands 
like these
so I watch the dust lift up
like volcanic murmurs
from their gallant rush West
it swirls down my capillaries
until it coats my bones

And I keep
my palms flat, perpetually open
in case my horses grow hungry

They are my lovely fractures
dark and violent riders
only moved by
bloody sunsets
and a hope 
balancing on that tilted axis
leading to the moon:

As it wanes, I cry;
waxes, I implode

My horses follow
the glow
until they have galloped every acre
of Me

I never would dream
of taming
ever maiming
the wild part of me.