So.

Here I am again, at the start of another year and the end of another disastrous relationship.  This time I hit pay dirt – a married man whom I’ve been friends with for 14 years, 3 months, two days and 8 hours and in love with for 14 years, 3 months, two days and 7.5 hours…and counting.

I realize I need to make a change, to see if there’s a way to create a new life and new habits so that next year I’m not huddled on my bed in the fetal position, wailing so loud the neighbor’s dog is barking in sympathy and my eyes are swollen shut.

I’ve always been particular, even as a child. I needed everything to match – my barrettes, my underwear, my tights; a control freak nursery schooler in patent leather Mary Janes.

When I was eleven, I cried for three weeks after getting my ears pierced because I the holes weren’t completely even.  It didn’t seem to matter that my earlobes are not completely even, either.

However, this tendency toward OCD lent itself well when it came to my education.  I am a classically trained violinist and a traditional conservatory education requires that you have an inordinately high tolerance for nitpicking. After all, success and failure can be decided by a millimeter’s difference – one small slip and you fall from first to second place.  And your life is ruined…RUINED!

Years of this kind of rigor has created a lot of positives, like a high level of achievement; the ability to focus on small minutae for long periods of time; and the discipline to never give up. But now I also see how these same traits may be morphing into obstacles to my growth because they may, in fact, be artifacts of another time for me. This is to say, the game seems to be changing but I am trying to play by the same rules – rules that may no longer apply.

It sucks.

You may be wondering what any of this has to do with how I began this page. Indeed, none of this seems at all connected to the alarmingly cliched ‘sad-girl-meets-terrible-boy-finds strength and self-fullfillment-rom-com-chick-lit’ description at the top of the page.

Well, I plan to get to all of that. Eventually. And I say eventually because I’m not really sure myself. What I do know is that what Gandhi said seems to apply here:

Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.

By this time next year, I will have done more stuff, thought less, and found more joy and meaning in my life.  And written a lot of stories, in an effort to figure things out. Regardless of how imperfectly they may fall into place.

That’s the hope, anyway.

Here we go.