The New Life

I had a horrible day on Monday. But it was also the best day I have had here.

I spoke to my Mom on the phone for about two hours talking about various things, mostly Ian's recent death and my relationship with Kirsten.

My sister's fiancee Ian died in Afghanistan last week. He was the first person who had ever died in my life who I actually knew personally and met more than once. He lived in my house for over a year. We spent time together. I would consider him my friend. It's strange thinking of his body laying limp, not belonging to him anymore. It's strange to think of him not existing anymore. Anywhere. It's strange to know that I cannot contact him no matter what I do. If there was something i wanted to ask him, I can never know it. If there was something I wanted to do with him, I can never do it. I didn't know what to do when I found out. Should I be crying constantly? Should I be angry? Should I be by myself? I still don't know what I am supposed to do. When I heard the news I literally collapsed. My legs gave out. I don't remember hitting the ground. I just remember my friends rushing over to me and asking what happened. I remember crying for a few minutes. And then being calm for a few hours. Then crying again as it hit me again. This happened a few more times over the course of the week. I called my sister and told her how sorry I was, how I wished I was there. We cried on the phone to each other. It was a beautiful moment. I've never felt closer to her than in that moment. It took my parents saying something about how unique it was to make me realize it, but it was there. This growing up business is dangerous and painful, but worth it.

Then there's Kirsten. I spent a majority of the phone call being angry and crying over what to do about Kirsten. We were together for five years and then a week after we broke up she was with a new guy. I was so angry at first. I blamed her for disrespecting me and our relationship. It made me feel worthless. I felt dispensable. Like I never really mattered to her. I still feel like what she did was in poor taste and fairly disrespectful to me. But it was and is her life now. I have no more say in what she does. I'm still her best friend, which I'm massively grateful for. But I'm still only just a friend. She has moved on and I need to too. And I think I finally have.

Up until Monday life has been a daily struggle. It has been spans of loneliness with bits of goodness and newness mixed in. Today I can say I have moved forward. The hardest part of this process is behind me. There is still struggle ahead, I make no mistake. But the pain I had to move through to truly place my life here has been faced. I have officially begun my new life in Los Angeles. My home is here now. The friends I have here are the friends I have in my life and the friends back home are my old friends. They are still just as important to me as the day I left and as the months before that. But they are my old friends now. From my old life. From my old home. Going to Vancouver for Thanksgiving and Christmas and Summer will be going home. But coming back to SC will be returning to the progress and process of my new life. Going back home will be wonderful and refreshing, but stagnant. I will not be growing or moving forward in Vancouver. I will not be progressing my life forward. Being home will be a break from life. It will be a revitalizing rest. Necessary for rejuvenation, because moving forward in life is hard and uncomfortable. Home will be comfortable but in the end, unfulfilling. After some time at home, I'll be ready to get back in the game and continue to move forward with my new life. Monday was the turning point. And it was hard. But now it is finally behind me.

My new home is here. My new life is now. Wish me luck.