It Was a Year

It will be, this year, too.

(a semi recap/what rolled out when I set out to write so I’m sorry and also you’re welcome.)

I’m writing for my own recollection, potential remediation, hopeful reconciliation. 2019 can basically remove its own rib to suck its own dick and swallow for the first time in a long time and choke on that dick and die and be gone. But it’s over, now, so we have that.

I started 2019 in a healthier place than I’d been in a long time. My 2018 car accident and subsequent concussed decision to stay in my marriage meant I’d made some intentional changes. When I re-chose commitment I did so with a new revelation that I must first be committed to myself. Years of contemptuous resentment at my spouse for the decisions I was making or not making in order to appease or please him had left me with very little semblance of the life I’d imagined. At the end of 2018 I decided I was wholly responsible for my own choices and involvement or happiness or growth and, when I stopped blaming him, I started living some of the joyous ideas I’d long put off.

The funny thing about personal responsibility is that it makes you personally responsible. This meant that, even healthier and happier, I still had to own the drunken night in Barcelona in February that cost me my best friend. I’d argue, still, and be right, still, that it…