twenty-something

Yes, I stepped out of my highly-touted resolution mode -- out of the moment -- long enough to ponder the next step a bit this weekend. To look at graduate schools. To think about a move to Boston, New York, or elsewhere. To consider conhabitation. To think about next year. As much as I enjoy my job, and as much as the status quo has its perks, I know that it's not forever. There's a very specific time limit on my current situation (work and location wise, anyway), but I've promised myself that I wouldn't get ahead of myself this time.

But this momentary moral infidelity allowed me to fantasize about some greener grass for a moment, and put the here-and-now in yet another frame of reference. See, I think I know exactly what I'm missing in my life in this moment. And I know exactly what I have.

don't build your world around volcanos melt you down

Have truer words ever been spoken? Most certainly, yes, especially since looking at those on the screen seem to make no sense. But you get it, don't you? It's some kind of metaphor... ya know, for building your life around something that's volitile and could, ya know, melt you down.

So Carrie's moving to Paris with Mikahl, eh? So sad. Initially, I had the same reaction as Miranda -- she's making a huge mistake. But on further reflection (yes, I give Sex and the City further reflection), I could relate to the Big C. She's happy and wants to continue being so. Very Bohemian. While I hates me some Russian, I could understand the choice she made. Afterall, hadn't I made a very similar choice some six months ago?

Have I, like Carrie, built my world around a volcano? I moved back to Vermont for a man. I can pretend it was for other reasons -- and in many ways it was -- but the catalist for this move wasn't family or living conditions or the dream job I know have. It was for The Guy, for Duncan. It was out of happiness -- but also out of fear and desperation. And as I realize, with each passing day, that aside from my job, I have little else in my daily world here besides Duncan, I have to wonder if this is going to melt me down.

So I have a bad weekend and I survive. I have doubts and I deal with them. But I'm left with questions. Do I deserve more than what I already have? Or do I simply need more from who I already have?

If I died tomorrow, I think I would be happy with my choices, with the life I've lead. I have loved and been loved. Not without its imperfections, its ups-and-downs. And I have followed my heart, that volcanic muscle that is both best friend and biggest betrayer. I've been true to myself, and that's what counts. In six months, a year, five years, maybe I'll realize I've been a fool, living a fantasy that's bit me in the ass. But right now... if I died tomorrow, I would die as happy as I could be at 23.

Gloomy, eh? Damien Rice will do that to ya. But in a good way.

There's other stuff going on, too. Stuff that could be Big Bad. Or nothing.

For now, chin up. Everything's fabulous.