“Seriously, though. This is the happiest I have been in my whole life. Right now.”
The words just fell out of my mouth and hung there in thin air. I was shocked at how easily I had said them. Neither of us said anything for a few minutes but the look on Pookie’s face was almost disbelieving.
But it was true.
I really am the happiest I can ever remember being. I just always thought it would take more. But really…what else is there? I have friends whom I love very much, family who rock my face off (most of the time, to my surprise), an apartment that screams Crizzleness, a great guy (who, whether he is here and we are together or not, makes me feel like a princess and has the entire time he has been in my life), a great job, and a new car that I love.
I remember being nineteen and considering moving in with Jer and thinking that it would be the happiest time of my life. But it had a cycle all its own. It was the kind of adjustment that neither of us could have expected and, even though we worked it out and did it well, it still wasn’t the happy occasion I thought it would be. Don’t get me wrong, we had our moments, but they just weren’t as frequent as I would have hoped. It was mundane and more like having a roommate that I shared a bed with for most of it. And I told myself when we broke up, that I could never be in a relationship like that again. And I haven’t.
When Spliff, Jenn, and I got our apartment, I was half elated, half scared to death. I was exited about the prospect of, for once, living with girls and acting like girls and not having to clean up after a boy but was also scared that, my not being as “girlie” as those two, we wouldn’t get along. And even as much fun as ended up to be, cleaning up after Jenn was countless times worse than cleaning up after a boy. It boiled down to this, even though I ended up still being elated about living with Spliff and getting along with her so well, I was still petrified that one night I would sneak into Jenn’s room and smother her with her own pillow. Definitely NOT the best time of my life.
And although, Spliff and I living in our beach shack runs a close second to the present, it still wasn’t quite this good. I wouldn’t give that time away for anything in the world (How could I? That was possibly the most fun I have ever had.), but lemme tell you. I feel more confident, self-sufficient, and content now than I ever have. And it is just the being alone thing. That’s all it boils down to. I am doing it all by myself.
I guess I appreciate it more now because I have had so much discontent and so much close-but-no-cigar that I can take all of this for what it is and just bask in the freedom of it all. But I do sometimes miss trying to go to sleep and being dragged out of my bed by my ankles to watch Q-Tip on TV. But I now know that anytime I get too sick of sleeping when I want, I can just drive to O-Town and I am sure that Spliff can remedy that for a small fee (a couple of bottles of wine and a tank of gas). Gotta love that. (Thanks to Lucy who makes the drive possible.)
The moral of the story is: Dammit. I am finally where I want to be. Momentarily anyway.