I’m finally starting to get there. I decided to finish my undergrad work in New Jersey. It’s free. How can you turn down free? In January, I decided I was not dating anymore. I was taking a break from men. Within a month, I met the most amazing guy. It’s not official or anything, and we’ve only been seeing each other for a month, but he’s absolutely wonderful. I’m not used to wonderful. I’m quite used to asinine, bastard, and let me treat you like crap. But wonderful? It’s awesome.

It’s funny how life sneaks up on you like that. I wasn’t looking for anything. I didn’t even want anything. I was taking some additional time to focus on me and get my act together. And here comes this amazing person who makes me want to have plans….And he has plans. And he wants to settle down. And so do I.

I don’t want to jinx the whole thing. And I feel like I might if I say too much. But I’ve laughed more in the past month than I ever have when I’ve dated someone. I don’t feel judged. He knows my family drama and he’s still here. He calls when he says he will, he puts in the effort to make time for me even though he has an incredibly busy career, and he’s so good to me. He’s different from anyone I’ve ever dated. And I’m more smitten than I’ve ever been in my entire life. And that’s it for now.

School is wrapping up in about a month and I’m getting ready to embark on a wonderful, new chapter of my life. I’m starting at Rutgers-Camden in the fall…I’ve been considering going to medical school instead of pharmacy school, because I desperately miss a Biology based program. I need to feel like I make a contribution to this would. That I do something positive.

But I’m terrified I’ll fail. Which is why I really hesitate to commit to anything out loud and in person. It was the same for pharmacy school. I’m hoping I can stop being my own worst enemy.

It feels like life is finally falling into place. I love that feeling.

No one wrote me a guide book for growing up. No one tells us how to make sure our parents are okay without us. Especially when if we leave, they’re alone. No one told me how to make sure she’ll be okay if I’m 600 miles away and she’s by herself. No one wrote an instruction manual telling me how not to worry. No one explains how to deal with wanting to experience new things but being so tied to the past and present that you feel you can’t move. Why doesn’t anyone tell me how to do this? I know I have to go to Nashville if the school thing works out better there, whether it’s in August or for pharmacy school. It’s logical. But no one explained how to go somewhere you love, where you feel you need to be, while slicing out half your heart and leaving it behind. No one tells me how. And it’s hard. It’s fucking shitty. I hate feeling so torn about this. I’m half wondering if when I go, I should convince my sister to send my oldest nephew here for school. It would be great for him. My mom would have company. He’d have a better education and more advantages. I’m really considering trying to work that idea into future plans. I don’t want my mom to be here alone.

How do we do this? How do we become grown ups? Maybe it’s just hard for me because I’ve never had parent/child defining lines. I did a lot of growing up on my own. But it was always just me and my mom. At least from the time I was 13ish. My dad was around when I was little. And he was great. But when I got older, he just wasn’t involved as much, if ever. It’s not really his fault. I don’t blame him. I blame a lot of it on the age difference. I was born when my dad was 60. By the time I became a teenager, we just couldn’t identify with each other anymore. Yeah, he could have stuck it out. Put in more effort. But he was old. And I was a teenage girl. And I guess it was easier to become distant. I know he loves me. In his own way. I know he cares and thinks about me, but I shouldn’t be the only one who picks up the phone. I know it shouldn’t matter. I’m stubborn. But while this man was wonderful to me as a small child, he failed me during the hardest parts of my life. He wasn’t there for me when I needed a dad. When I needed someone. He wasn’t there when I needed a strong male influence in my life. He didn’t go out of his way to help my mom support me, and he always managed to say something mean about her when I did see him. He wasn’t at a single choral performance. He never came to a play or musical I participated in. He didn’t come to my National Honor Society induction. He didn’t see me go to prom or take me to the school for my senior trip. He didn’t make it to my high school graduation. He wasn’t there. And that’s not something I can  forget.  I can forgive and move past it, but I can’t completely forget. Those scars stick around. Those scars are part of why I used to be/still am a sometimes damaged individual. I’ve made peace with myself, and I’ve healed, but those wounds are still there. And every once in a while, they’re still as fresh as if they happened yesterday. Most times I’m fine. But every once in a while something sets me off. A commercial…tv show…movie. The one where the dad is there. Sometimes, that image wrecks me for a few minutes. Luckily, only in those moments where no one sees. And I can put myself back together when I’m ready.

I’m screwed up. And damaged. And, really, who isn’t? We all have scars. I think I’ve been able to overcome most of mine. Even if I wonder that they’re still partially responsible for my lack of successful romantic relationships. Part of why I don’t get seriously involved with people. Why I used to be very prone to flings. Why I usually only become really infatuated with men who aren’t exactly available…distance, career, forbidden fruit, highly unlikely in general. Because I really really like guys I think I can’t have. It’s not the chase. I still like them after it works out. But I tend to really go for someone I don’t think would be interested in me. Maybe I just sell myself short in my own head and that’s not really the case at all. Who knows. I just know that despite the damaged parts of myself, I’m mostly content. While the last relationship I was in didn’t work out in the long run, I know it wasn’t me doing the running this time. I genuinely wanted to be there. Step in the right direction, I think. I still have giant crushes on unavailable/unattainable men, but there’s not a whole lot I can do about that at the moment. And seeing as how I’m most likely moving in August, my love life is kinda on hold anyway. So, no point in looking to date anyone in Jersey when I plan on being 600 miles away. Leaving things the way they are seems like a good choice for now.

I had a great time. I checked out a couple of shows. Saw some new places. And fell in love again. In numerous ways. I kinda hoped I wouldn’t. I wanted a reason to turn my back on Nashville. And I haven’t found one. Even when I wasn’t running around, I still loved it. Because I was there. And I felt like I was coming home. Like some kind of magnetism.  It fit. I didn’t want it to. I really wanted to find another reason to stay safe and comfortable where I am. I wanted to hate it.

I love Nashville. I may not always love Nashville, but I do for now. And I think it’s where I need to be. At least for a while. It feels right, even when the thought of moving is very bittersweet. I know I’ll miss New Jersey…but this is always home. I will always have this. And I can always come home. There will always be something here for me. I’ll always have a safety net. But, I think I might be living too safely as of late. I’m not even walking the line. I’m not taking the risks I should be taking. And maybe Nashville is a part of taking the risk.

I feel like I need this. I’m not saying I don’t feel torn, but I feel like I need this part of my life. I need to be on my own for a while.I need to know myself again. I need to feel that I’m going somewhere with my life. And I think that this might be the right choice.

On the other hand, moving has its rough points, too. My second day in Nashville, my mom was in a really bad accident. She was lucky she walked away uninjured. Had the impact been on the driver’s side of the truck, I’d be picking up the pieces of my broken life. I’m not really religious…I hate organized religion. But I’m lucky. Fate or some higher power didn’t want me to fall apart. My life wasn’t meant to be destroyed. I didn’t lose my mom. And I’m fortunate. I was in Nashville, which meant I wasn’t in the passenger seat, like I would have been if I had been home. I’m alive. Some decision was made in my favor that day. I’m grateful. My life is still intact. And I ache for those people who didn’t get the same consideration. People who lose loved ones every day. I have a new appreciation for what it must cost them to breathe in and out. Being 700 miles away when someone I care about was in danger was extremely difficult. I guess I found the downside of moving. The risk you take of being far from those you love…you might not make it in time. You might not be there. Not that you can ever stop these things. But I think being farther away might make things difficult on a different level.

So, I’m confused. There’s good and bad with every decision. But I miss being in Nashville already. And I’m happy…for the most part. My house is empty again, and that always leaves me a little unsettled. But I’m dealing.

Because no one over-analyzes quite like me. I like to think things to death. And I’m pretty sure I have a touch of OCD. Friends will say I’m understating that…just a little. So, I’m packing. And panicking over whether I’m bringing enough stuff. Not enough stuff. The right stuff. The wrong stuff. Oh, fuck. I think I should just throw everything out of the suitcase and start over. I have issues. I’m aware. I am a planner. Type A…but only with some things. I’m some weird contradiction of traits…and even I don’t get me. But with traveling? I’m type a. I like to know what I’m doing, when I’m doing it, and I like to have a million contingency plans just in case. I’m enough to make a sane person hyperventilate and go into fits. It’s a little ridiculous. While this makes me annoying before a trip, it also makes me calm during a trip. Because every possible outcome is covered. In my head, at least.

My boss likes to fly to other countries with absolutely no plans. Alone. No hotel reservations. No transportation. This type of thing would probably send me into convulsions. I might go into convulsions just imagining it. I am a planner. I like some form of organization. Especially if I’m by myself. With someone else, I can be more flexible. But alone? Schedules. Lists. Plans. Order. Even if I don’t follow any of it. Having it keeps me sane. And while friends will tease me about it, it usually means they don’t have to plan. Everything runs smoothly. I also travel with a compact pharmacy. Just in case anyone contracts the Ebola virus.

So I leave for Nashville Thursday. And I have things sitting out ready to be packed. But for the most part…nothing done. I work well under pressure, so I know throwing everything together tomorrow will be okay…but I’m still panicking. Maybe because I have a trillion things to do that aren’t related to Nashville. I need a good stress reliever. Or a bottle of Xanax.

We had such a great girls night. There were shots, which I refused to partake in since I was driving. I stuck to my corona. Safer that way…Tara had my share of shots. It was beautiful. And she heeded my warning and didn’t throw up in my truck. I was very appreciative. Seeing her fall out of my truck when we got home? Priceless.

That being said, I am wayyyyy too old for the college bar scene. At least mentally. Watching these silly frat boys who think they’re awesome trying to pick up overdressed girls…hilarious. I even asked Tara if I’ve ever looked that ridiculous in a bar. She said no. I felt relieved. It was like having a front row seat to a meat market. Because really…are you even going to remember that dude’s name in the morning? Probably not. And you shouldn’t. Because you obviously have really really really potent beer goggles, honey.

Overall, a successful and much needed night out. No one got hurt…well, not badly. Tara clipped the side of my truck when she fell out. But she didn’t remember. So…we’re all okay.

I feel stifled. I feel like I’ve missed out. And I don’t like it. Most people went away to school…They experienced things that I haven’t been able to. I don’t regret staying local. At the time, it was the right thing for me, my family,and my finances. But now, it’s time. It’s time to branch out and learn things about myself. It’s time that I get out of my comfort zone.

I will be attending Rowan and staying local in January to finish up my Bachelor’s degree in biology as soon as possible. After, I will apply to pharmacy schools and other graduate programs as a back up. I will be a grown up and stop playing around with my future, which means I will give calculus, physics, and chemistry my full attention and get the best possible grade I can. I will no longer accept mediocrity from myself. I will stop trying to get by and give these subjects my entire focus. I will take summer classes and graduate as soon as possible so that I can start the rest of my life. There are good things waiting for me, and all I have to do is reach out and grab them. I’ve been doing so well. Toward the end of this semester, I really buckled down. I have a 4.0 this semester. I am so happy with myself. And I can do this. I’m also getting my ass back in gear, physically. I’ve gotten through the rough parts of being sick, going through a time when I was mildly depressed/anxious and I’ve changed my habits. I used to be really in shape and I’m so angry that I let myself think going through the motions was okay. It’s time to hold myself accountable for my own life. My running and no longer eating like crap thing is working…Because I am down 7lbs since turning over the new leaf. I’m going to make time for the things I love again. So, my guitar/piano will not be on hold anymore. I will no longer allow myself to be this out of balance. It is unhealthy. I need all of these things to be healthy and happy. I need my balance. And I’m finding it. I’m also, depending on my school schedule, going to continue subbing classes on my days off or work on campus for a couple hours. I need my life to have meaning again. I started having the semester off as giving myself a break…but I’ve given myself too much of a break. I’ve allowed myself to be lazy. And that is unacceptable.

The fun stuff: Vacation. I leave for Nashville in a week. I’m still sick as hell and I hope I can kick this cold before I leave. I really need to not be sick while I’m on vacation. And then I come back and will enjoy my break before I go back to school and buckle down. A few friends and I are planning a trip to Los Angeles for next winter. This will not only be a fun week away for me, but it will also answer a few questions. Like, can I live there?

As much as I adore my mom, and don’t want to leave her here alone, it’s time I got some things done that I needed to do. I don’t want to look back on my life and regret not doing things. So, I’ll be applying to pharmacy schools and graduate programs in Philly, Baltimore, Nashville, and Los Angeles. And I will make a decision. I might decide to stay in Philly until I graduate and then experience life in Nashville or Los Angeles when I get a real job…who knows. Jersey is home. I will always come back here. I belong here. But it’s time I experience other places. It’s time I learn how to do that without worrying about my mom. I think it’s time we both learn how to live without each other underfoot. I hate leaving her alone, but she’ll have the relatives that live close by. And I need to learn how to be on my own somewhere new. It also means I should be single for the foreseeable future, because these are things I feel I have to do on my own or with a platonic friend. It’s time to chase the dreams I’ve been smothering.

I can’t wait to get done with my degree. Since I’ll be finishing it most likely in December, I’m hoping I can use the semester before pharmacy school to do some traveling. I feel like I have so much left to do in my life. I need tog o somewhere…I want to spend a few weeks in Canada (come on, it’s hockey country) and in California (and, of course, Nashville)…Make the trips to Texas and Seattle and Denver…Take a major roadtrip. I complain about being single, but then, it dawns on me that I really have a ton of stuff I want to do…stuff that I probably need to do on my own, or with a few close friends. I wouldn’t mind doing it with someone I was seeing romantically…but if that’s not in the cards for me, I don’t really mind. I have a ton of stuff  I still want to do.

I love when I have these moments. The ones where I can really focus on the good things I know are waiting for me in the future. It’s eye opening. It’s exciting. I really can’t wait to get started.

I’m just getting to a point where I’m ready to settle down. And by settle down, I don’t mean house, picket fence, etc. I mean, get serious. Finish school, date someone who’s interested in more than just getting in my pants. Because that seems to be what I encounter anymore. My fault…I talk to the wrong guys, probably. That, and I’m unnaturally attracted to assholes. It happens. I’m just so tired of the fling mentality. It’s not what I’m looking for. I have friends that I’ve known for ten years that still cause a huge problem in this area…Can’t we all just be grown ups? Outside of the last ex, I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been on a date. I don’t really want to think about it…it’s been THAT long. I’m picky. I’m sure that has a lot to do with it. Maybe I’m too picky. But, then, why the hell shouldn’t I be picky? Why should I settle? Why shouldn’t I go for everything I want? I don’t think I should settle for mediocre. I deserve better. And I think it’s time I start acting like it.

And I am getting somewhere…slower than I originally intended. The rest? Not so much. Graduating is nowhere in sight. Well, with my doctorate anyway. My bachelor’s will be within the next year, hopefully. I can’t recall the last time I even looked at a stable relationship, much less had one. And, frankly, I’m not sure what the hell I want.

I’m getting where I need to go. And I think life gives you what you need, not what you want. So, I am getting what I need. A decent education, awesome, incredibly supportive friends, lots of family. I have what I need…and I’m trying not to beat myself up about the lack of everything else. I just don’t feel like I’ve accomplished enough, and it’s hard to swallow sometimes.

Most of the time, I focus on the good things in my future: a 7 day trip to Nashville in December, with a stop to see an awesome, newly engaged friend in South Carolina on the way home, a birthday outing on dec 5th, right before the aforementioned trip, transferring to a new school, graduating with my b.s. in biology, a wedding in july…and hopefully a million other things in between. I’m excited for the good things I have waiting for me.

I am damaged. We all are. And we deal with it differently. My damage is dangerous. Because I know I am a strong person. I know that no matter how bad it hurts, I will have a tomorrow. And I will remake myself over and over again until I feel I’ve gotten it right. I break now and then, but it’s rare that I ever let you see it. Especially if you’re a guy and you’ve demolished my heart. I walk away…and sometimes I lose my mind for a few minutes, and sometimes I throw myself into something else to the point of exhaustion.

I used to internalize emotions until the point of explosion. I’ve gotten better at finding outlets and letting go. I’ve healed myself. I’ve learned to breathe. But before that, I’d learned how to be indifferent…and every once in a while, that part of me comes back out. I’m used to being on my own, so I push people away as if I don’t need anyone. In the past, I’ve run for the  door when relationships looked like they might get somewhere. For the most part, I’ve given all that up. But, that part of me is still here. And I’m still trying to teach that part that it’s okay to need other people.

This makes me prickly and hard to know occasionally. Sometimes, it causes a disconnect. Sometimes, it sabotages a perfectly good relationship. I guess I’m just tryign to remind myself that I’ve grown. That we all grow and change and circumstances teach us things. About ourselves, other people, life. And it’s a good thing.