And Sometimes When You're On, You're Really Fucking On

Today was family birthday day. Dim Sum and a trip to Alcatraz, 'cause my family of bay area natives had never been. It was all pretty well and good and I learned that wearing three inch heals to walk up hills and around a prison was maybe not the best idea. I also learned to not break up with you boyfriend 2 weeks before your birthday unless you want to spend a good portion of celebrating your birthday with your family discussing whether or not your heart needs a band aid (yes, my grandmother really did want to know) and why you broke up with their favorite babysitter. You know what I would've like to talk about today? Basically anything else. Seriously, even all the violent bits of the Alcatraz audio tour were more appealing than that conversation.

Now that I've talked about how much I didn't want to have that conversation with my family, I'm going to go ahead and move on to having that conversation with the internet. Hello, Internet.

I go back and forth right now between feeling like maybe I've made the worst decision in my life and maybe I've just made one of the better ones. Between a sense of terror and exhilaration. The fear that I'll never again find somebody to love, to envision a future with to rely on and to be relied on by is overwhelming around 1 am when I'm thinking about how I wish I had somebody to keep my feet warm in bed. But in the light of day I feel free. I have control of my life back, it's no longer based around somebody else figuring out when and where everything will happen for them to get their life on track. I can do what I want to do, wear clothing that I know he wouldn't like, move across the country, sleep too little, drink too much- hell, I can even go to church now (yeah, seriously, I want to be able to go to church without feeling like an idiot for wanting to gather with people with whom I have shared spiritual/political beliefs- it totally fits in this list). Then back to, "Oh my goodness, I'm 23 years old and just broke up with my high school sweetheart". I don't know anything about dating as an adult. I can't imagine how long it would take to get to know somebody or for somebody to get to know me the way we knew each other. Right now, I can't even fathom falling in love with a different person. I don't actually want to. It just seems like it's all supposed to be so much easier when you're the one doing the dumping. I have more stuff to pick up from his house, a checking account that needs to have his name taken off it, a room full of belongings with memories of him attached to them. Apparently, breaking up is hard to do.

Really though, I am excited for the future. I want to write more, craft more, keep up my food blog, figure out how one becomes a cookbook author instead of a baker and maybe create an etsy store full of ridiculously cute shrinky dink jewelry and retro hostess aprons (I have to go get my sewing machine out of our joint storage unit for that part) and at the same time have fun. I'm pretty sure this is the age where you're supposed to stress less and sew wild oats and all that stuff so I'm going to give it a try.

It just all seems so daunting.