Hello Blog.

Long time no talk. I've been trying to process a lot. Finals. Opening weekend of the musical. And of course. This. I think I am finally ready to post this. I wrote it several days ago, but I was, and still am, processing.

In the last 6 months, my world has undergone extensive changes, invariably forcing me to question my choices and alter my visions of the future. For those of you who haven’t noticed, my relationship status has changed. Single. That’s right folks. For those of you who fell out of your chairs, go ahead and pick yourselves back up. If you choked on your food, please accept my apologies. Find someone to perform the Heimlich on you. I know, I know. After 4 and a half years? Why? How? When? All great questions. That I will answer at some point. Maybe in this blog. I can’t be sure yet.

6 months ago, I was the picture of domestic bliss, sharing a home with the man I planned to marry one day soon. I preferred to be a shut-in, content to walk through the doors of my comfortable home after work every day and enjoy a nice quiet dinner, usually something fancy prepared by Chris. He was, and still is, a great cook. We would cuddle up with each other and the cat and waste the night away in stimulating conversation, good or bad (especially bad) television, reading and a glass of wine or a cold beer. My size eight feet were firmly planted in this life; I never once questioned the choice of my domesticity because I was, and still am, confidant that I had lived out my days of wild youth and reckless abandon to the fullest extent possible.

But… my once very real and established domesticity has been altered significantly. Sure, I still have a roof over my head, but it no longer feels like a home… a roof that I now share with a (gasp!) roommate. The cat is still there, along with the good and bad television, the alcohol, and the quiet. Despite all the things that have remained, my life now feels nothing like it did six months ago. I continue to find unwavering peace and euphoria in the silence, although I laugh a little more boisterously these days. I watched my controlled, complete life board the zeppelin and vanish into oblivion while I waved goodbye with a smile on my face, knowing I would always think of it fondly. And that maybe, it would return. One day. In a different form.

It was always part of the package, known to me before Chris and I began to date, that Chris intended to attend grad school somewhere in the UK for Medieval Literature. He began to teach high school English right after graduation from CSUB with the goal to save for a few years, simultaneously loving his job and loathing the inattentive students and bureaucratic nonsense.

This has proven to be a constant theme amongst all the teachers I know, and man, do I know a lot of them. Remind me never to be a high school teacher.

But I digress.

When the acceptance letters came rolling in last winter, it was almost all of the positive variety. University of Edinburgh, check. Leeds, check. More schools I can’t remember, check. Suddenly, the winds of change began to sweep through our lives.

There was, as always, the issue of my fierce independence. See, the Capricorn in me is strong-willed and determined. Independent. A byproduct of this stubborn independence is my desire never to follow a man. No matter what. Unless I have a ring on my finger. I have always said that I will follow my husband anywhere. But I fill follow a boyfriend under no circumstances. I doubt that my feelings on this subject will ever be altered.

And there was no ring when the letters came rolling in. And I certainly wasn’t going to get married so that I could follow him. That would have defeated the point.

When the inevitable dropping of hints about getting married began, it felt all wrong. I suddenly realized that if I were to marry him at that point in time, it would have been a mistake. So I shut him down, not forever. But I told him I wouldn't get engaged or married before he left because I believed it would have been for the wrong reasons. Upon further examination, this was the moment my hope for total domesticity, a hope within my grasp, started slipping away. We were never the same after that. Apparently, when a guy talks marriage, a woman is supposed to jump for joy and scream confirmations as loudly as possible, or the man’s pride is wounded. I didn’t just wound his pride; I killed it with a baseball bat and continued to rip apart the rotting carcass.

Call me a bitch. Go ahead. I probably deserve it. At the very least, for something else I have done over the years.

But there was too much damage; things would never be the same. So, in conjunction with several other reasons, the relationship died much later. Recently. By my hand. It didn't happen easily, and it may have been the hardest thing I've had to do in years. I knew that in order for us both to grow, we had to move on. What's that nonsense that if you love something, let it go... But I have all the confidence in the world that it was the right choice for me and for him. Whether or not he is capable of seeing it at this moment.

The voice in my head telling me to put all of my energies into studying photography has become insufferable. Maybe I’ll keep pushing myself in that direction. I also have a play I’m writing. Yes, a play. That I am writing. Stop gasping. In my head, it’s freakin' fantastic. One day, I’ll post something from it. I so desperately wish I could be a novelist, and maybe one day I’ll write a novel. If for no other reason than to prove to myself I can. It will be crap. I know that. But I get plays, I know plays. I have certainly lived and breathed enough of them. So I’m starting with a play. Or maybe I’ll stay in media and transition into television. I am darn good at my job, and love the merging worlds of creativity and business. In my current profession, I can be the definition of womanhood, using my feminine whiles to accomplish almost anything, but still have balls, play with the big boys and be admired for it.

The realist in me stands in front of my new future, undefined, and feels, to be honest, unsettled. But the dreamer in me revels in the possibility of the unexpected. I’ve had a lot of the unexpected in my life lately, and I have to admit, I am thoroughly enjoying all of it, soaking in every moment of the thrills. And while the days of reckless abandon are long gone from my life, there is a certain lack of control I haven’t allowed myself to experience in years. Perhaps my problem is that I am driven all too often by logic and very rarely emotions.

I like the way that feels. To be in control the majority of the time, with a few deliciously exhilarating moments of… just enjoying the ride.