Five Years

It occurred to me yesterday morning that I missed writing on my blog anniversary this year. Granted, I spent the day in the sun at the pool club with one of my very best friends, who I happened to meet because of this blog, and hers, and then celebrated her daughter's birthday and played cards until midnight, so I was definitely otherwise occupied. But, I've been on vacation before when this day has come up on the calendar, and been prepared for it. This year, I wasn't. Perhaps deliberately so.

When I took this blog behind the wall in September, it changed my relationship with it, and with all of you. What used to be an open forum, an all-inclusive brain dump suddenly became an exclusive party. And yes, exclusive parties are nice for a while, but then they get stale, and you want fresh blood again. For a little while, I actually toyed with marking this anniversary with a final hurrah for the Midvale School. Seriously considered making Only a Northern Song the one place I wrote online. But, I'm not ready to give up this space, this online persona that is as much a part of who I am as anything else I do. I'm just tired of hiding. Even behind the wall, I didn't really open up as much as I thought I would with that "safety net". So, here's some things I'd been hiding during the year, that can come out into "the light", I suppose.

This has been the hardest year of my life, professionally. This new district demands 110% of my effort and almost as much of my time, and I've had a hard time juggling some of their demands. I'm not sorry I made the switch, as in terms of my career and professional development, this is a tremendous place for me to be. But, it has been harder than I ever could have imagined, and I worry about it.

I finally let go of someone I loved very much, and had been waiting to find out if we had a chance to be together. We don't. I made that realization as he slept on my couch this past March, and I slept in my room and sobbed. Letting go of someone you've spent so much time and energy believing in is difficult, and painful, but ultimately like taking a cast off of a broken limb. It itches and it's pale in comparison, and you treat it very gingerly, until you're sure it's just fine on its own. He remains a dear friend, but I have to move on.

In a way, I have. I've been dating someone since the end of April. He is talented and funny and free-spirited and sexy, and I am completely and utterly smitten with him, and it's totally frustrating for me. Trying to date like a normal person and not throw all my energy into this relationship, and knowing as well that he is doing the exact same thing and holding back somewhat because of other circumstances in his life is not the way I'm used to approaching a relationship. As "uncategorized" as we may be, we are in a "relationship", whether we call it that or not. And I'm annoyed with myself about being so girly about this one; why do I need to hear him say the words, "yes, you're my girlfriend"? As far as I know, it will change nothing in terms of how we're approaching this, at least for the time being. Maybe it's because he's here and willing to try, as much as he can give right now, which isn't as much as he WANTS to give right now. Maybe it's because I see this having potential. Real potential, and my normal mode of operation would be to rush at it and jump in, feet first and damn the torpedoes. And, we're not. We're deliberately putting brakes on this forward momentum and keeping it at a crawl. So, although I get it rationally, because I know what he's doing career-wise right now, and it's exciting to watch someone actually go about building their dream, my heart wants more. And, to avoid leaving this on a whiny and negative note (remember, positive energy into the universe, and positive energy will come back to you), he has these amazingly sexy shoulders and incredible blue eyes, and I could just look at them all day long. He was the magic that happened the night I stayed up all night after dancing in public, and I need to keep this magic in my life.

So, dear readers and friends, it's been a very emotional year behind the wall. And I'm amazed that some of you have stuck around as long as you have. Five years of blogging, and I'm not ready to stop. Not yet. But maybe I am ready for a change.