Frank Sinatra.

In the past year, I have been through more than I care to remember. I have become an adult, graduated, moved on to college, loved intensely, missed profoundly, lost parts of my kin and parts of my heart. i have gained a niece, and been more adventuresome than I'd ever imagined. I've worked my ass off, directed a play, spent too much money, smoked too many cigarettes, and forgotten what it means to take nothing - and no one - for granted.

Frankly, this year was hell. The sequences of events, the decisions, the loss of trust, the loss of face, the loss of... myself. This past year has been one roller coaster ride. Of course, I'm still here, and in the end, is that all that matters?
I stand here, with nothing to show for except confusion, indeciseveness, and uncertainty. Nothing is any more clear now than it was years ago. I'm supposed to be older and wiser, right? I've know I've had wisdom for years, and yet - nothing to show for it.
Still? Really?
You'd imagine that eventually along the line I'd have something to show - a love, a dream, a goal, a purpose - a little bit of money, even. But I'm still here. Still waiting for a sign. until then, I'm going to learn the loneliness - learn the ambivalence, learn the uncertainty. because what else may I do? It all works out, in the end - maybe this year wasn't my year. maybe this was my hurt year. That doesn't mean next year will be..