a year

I had the itch to do some midnight painting, seeing as how I haven't picked up a brush in over a month due to work. But my desk (and floors are still covered in boxes...I moved in a month ago or so...) Anyways one of the main reasons for not having everything unpacked is because I get distracted so easily by the little trinkets and books I have scattered about my bedroom. Just now as I was picking up my books and placing them on my wall nicely I found one of my favourite books from childhood. It's a book of Spanish poems, mostly about the ocean, the moon, the sun and all the critters that sing to them. After reading that out loud, and translating it out loud (to no one) I decided to get back to moving things off my desk to actually be able to paint.I picked up a giant journal I had received from life woman's conference, with empty pages, when out slipped a giant piece of folded paper and then a paper folded into a heart decorated with ink doodles. Letters I hadn't opened all year but knew very well who they were from. They were love letters from my previous boyfriend nearly a year ago. No, I did not keep them because I wasn't over him, my mom just told me when I first started dating in highschool to keep things like that to look back on when you're older and show your kids if you wish. I've seen her letters and photos of her old boyfriends and smiled and laughed at the stories she remembered. That is the reason why I kept them, to show my future kids the different kinds of love out there to feel and experience and that the end of a good thing can be the start of something better- or something like that. Anyways I decided to read the letters and I can't quite exactly express the emotion it is I felt. It wasn't the warm happy Innocent first love feeling that overpowered me the first time I had received them and read over and over and over again, but it wasn't a numb and cold lonely feeling either. To me it felt like an odd far off memory that played tidbits of the tales told in them. I laughed at some parts remembering the moments as if from my childhood. That's how far off that time of young love feels, as though years and years have gone by rather than one. I know that sounds bizarre. I don't quite remember what it was like to have someone constantly there for you to hug, and hold, and kiss whenever you desired. I'm grateful for that time and how it taught me to come out of my shell a bit and that holding hands with someone in public wouldn't be the death of me hah. But I'm also so very grateful for the year of growth that occurred after having my first heartbreak.

I can say confidently that I like the individual that I have become, yes there are parts that are flawed but I have plenty of time to work on them. I was a child then and feel more like a woman now. I am filled with passion & ever so eager for the future. 2012 was a year of breaking down completely and being remolded into what God wanted. A year of getting lost in emotions, finding a new home, and the year of mistakes such as drinking more than all the years combined. It was a year of recreating myself, doing what makes me happy, not being afraid to showcase my dark/sad/cynical side and growing more than I thought possible. 2012 was a year packed with so much confusion and feelings but also full of wonder and magic and moments of the purest peace & beauty. Here's to 2013 a year of no expectations, come as you are I will enjoy the journey. Single or not, poor or rich, with parents or without, whatever this year has for me I will have God with me- whether I speak to him daily or ignore him...he will always be there and for that I am grateful.

I mean 2013 has already been pretty kick ass, it's the year of the snake and I spent the first few minutes holding a beautiful ball python.

Last year was the year of no fear and I was pretty fearless. This year will be the year of adventure/exploration. I'm stoked.

This year will be the year I carpe the fucking diem.

 No resolutions, no expectations,

just motivation, imagination, & exploration.