Drivel

I stumbled upon this today while making my Christmas list.  I'm going to post it exactly the way I found it, even though it's pretty rough around the edges; it accurately reflects my state of mind, which is very valuable in my current emotional drought.

Ready? Here it is:

11/30/12

Cast party: On the way home from the party, we talked about men and movies and books and Friday nights. Our conversation followed us out of the car when we reached my building, but [it trailed after Heather to her car, dampened [curtailed] by the misty November rain][Heather took it with her when she left.]  I trudged up the cement stairs to my landing, dance parties and rap parodies [...] drizzle, sadness, glimmers of the vibrance of those lives, these moments

Anyway, the point is, I pulled out my key, my key,  

This door, my door, my life--friends and loss and productivity and a landing stained with pumpkin matter and the drizzling rain and my blue coat and hot chocolate and joining in the fun when all I want to do is cry and finally having a place that feels like home.  This is it.  This is my life.  I’ve made something of it.  I used to feel my unfulfilled potential bubbling up and making me crazy (and sometimes I still feel like I could be so much more), but not today.  Today I have a home and a life worth living and so many, many, many things to be thankful for.
 

I felt peace tonight.  No crippling anxiety, no swirling depression, no sense of displacement.  When I fitted that key to my lock, I knew I would open a door to the life I have built for myself--to a clock that ticks out a peaceful rhythm, and a bed that really needs a frame, and a feeling of security and great faith in my future.  I haven’t felt so at ease in a very, very long time.