It's been a while.
I'm writing on Prosebox, but I wanted to come back here and update a little.
So much has happened. It would be a waste of time to recap all of it - the utter insanity of it all is chronicled in my Prosebox books.
Maybe I want a place to seem as though I can be more candid about old things I'm still grappling with. If we can't be honest about things when we write, what's the point of using it as a form of therapy and catharsis?
I've been with my current company for one year today, though my anniversary was celebrated yesterday as two of us were hired and started on the same day. Lately things have been decent around the office - I've even taking a good chunk of time off (immediately following a four-day weekend because I am, in fact, a simple douchebag) and tomorrow's my Friday.
Haven't had a proper vacation (read: staycation) in years. It's gonna be grand, kids.
I've moved twice - in February 2014 to a studio cottage, the same one my ex Aundria had lived in. In June of this year, I moved again to a house with my covenmates (well, three of the five excluding myself) and it's been lovely. They've become family, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be right now. In August of 2016, I adopted a chihuahua I named Tank and he's become my favorite little neurotic companion.
Michael and I broke up and stayed thus, but we served on a nonprofit board together and that saw to the end of whatever respect I had left for him. He did something truly despicable at Pride this last year - that marked the end of even remaining acquainted.
There have been friendships, a year and-a-half long dalliance with somewhat of a local celebrity that ended in complete scandal but has now died down; several nasty social transactions and just as many lovely ones. So many interpersonal blunders and triumphs; I've figured out who I am, albeit slowly. Although the grief from losing Mom isn't as potent, it did in fact turn me into an animal and I am digging my way out of that pit.
Chet died in August of 2016. Lynda, his daughter, was with me when he passed. My grandmother's house was sold and she moved to a senior living facility not far from where I live. Her Alzheimer's continues to worsen. I don't see her nearly as often as I should.
Of all the things I have lost, of all the people I've lost, I am most disturbed still by John's disappearance from my life. If I could pinpoint a time when things turned dark and confusion reigned, that would be the moment. We haven't spoken in months. I've many theories as to why this is, but the one I have always returned to is that we just got too close. I miss him constantly - I even dreamed about him last night.
My sister is pregnant! She called and told me on Halloween. It was a lovely bright spot in an otherwise questionable murkiness.
It's been a wild ride, but these days it's quiet and I appreciate the time to recover. Work, the gym, and my small circle of friends is what I invest my time in.
Overall, I can't complain.
Just thought I'd let ya'll know.