My dearest diary,
It seems that I am once again content to reside in a place I swore off time and time again. Although your pages are too new to ever be aware of it, my time here --in the borders between foreign and fantastic-- has been met with highs and lows to rival that of the most extreme roller coaster found in any modern-era amusement park. I am optimistic, however, in my latest visit-turned-residency. To better acquaint you with some facts, I came here just shy of my twenty-first birthday. Young and stupid usually go hand-in-hand and I was no exception to that cliche. I was young and so very foolish. You see, I'm terribly spoiled and am quite used to getting my way. Of course, I also work incredibly hard to get a lot of things as well, but I can fully admit, if just in the privacy of these pages, that I am spoiled and stubborn. I'd convinced myself that I deserved the best of everything and even thought I could afford the best of everything. The latter was a sad reality I learned the hard way. It was a cruel lesson, a humiliating lesson -- but one I learned nonetheless.
Through it all, each and every one of my ups and downs, I had a collection of friends who bore witness to it and helped me from enemies I never expected and, yes, even saved me from my own worst enemy: myself. Looking back at my time here, I drift between outright laughter and sobbing tears; I loved, I lost, loved again, forged bonds of friendship that are stronger than any family tie. They taught me that not only was it all right to be different (aka traditional) but that it was perfectly fine to be myself -- that we are human (or most of us are, anyway) and to be human means to make mistakes. It's what happens after making them that is important. And, even though it took me a handful of years, I discovered more about myself and the person who I want to be.
I want to be Reva Abigail (sometimes Jezebel) Dirmen.
Nothing more, nothing less.
For the longest time, all I ever envisioned was my wedding day. In truth, I think I had every aspect of it planned since I was thirteen and writing in a Hello Kitty journal that had a tiny lock and key for privacy sake. Little did I know then that it opened with a paperclip... but I digress. So much of my younger days was spent daydreaming about become Mrs. So-And-So. When I met Jake back in 2006 and our friendship turned to love, I convinced myself that we'd get married and, yes, live happily ever after. Only... the living part is difficult for Jake since he's... well... dead. Our relationship went through some turbulent times and eventually we -- no, I-- ended it. Why? Because I wanted more.
But every step that I took away from him only brought me that much closer to realizing what I truly wanted. And that was Jake. He had become so much a part of my life that without him... it didn't work. I lived on automatic by doing things I was supposed to do or thought were the right things to do. I was alive but didn't live. It didn't help matters that everything -- and I mean EVERYTHING-- reminded me of him. Flowers, songs, Chinese food. The color black. Cigarettes. Straws. Tattoos. Bowling. Armani. Cary Grant. Flamingos. Long skirts. Squirrels. Football. Glitter. Post-Its. Cliff diving. Ice cream trucks. Stars. Leaves. Snowflakes. Bees and Winnie-the-Pooh. Nuns, priests, rabbis! Big honkin' diamonds. Even light bulbs for crying out loud.
So where are we now? We're trying again. Moving slow and steady, and I'm completely fine with that. We were once the best of friends who fell in love. Now we're two people in love trying to reconnect the same things that made us friends. It's ... complicated. Oh, that crafty word shall always be a part of my vocabulary. Only nowadays, I don't mind it. I refuse to complain about it. It's complicated and I adore every moment I get to share with him. I don't need a ring (because he already gave me one complete with strobe lighting). I don't need a wedding. I don't need the white dress and a ceremony.
All I want is to know that my best friend is in my life again. Just knowing the familiar puff of smoke and a black suit is going to be there when I'm in need of a smile, a laugh, a hug...
... that's my happily ever after.
It seems that I am once again content to reside in a place I swore off time and time again. Although your pages are too new to ever be aware of it, my time here --in the borders between foreign and fantastic-- has been met with highs and lows to rival that of the most extreme roller coaster found in any modern-era amusement park. I am optimistic, however, in my latest visit-turned-residency. To better acquaint you with some facts, I came here just shy of my twenty-first birthday. Young and stupid usually go hand-in-hand and I was no exception to that cliche. I was young and so very foolish. You see, I'm terribly spoiled and am quite used to getting my way. Of course, I also work incredibly hard to get a lot of things as well, but I can fully admit, if just in the privacy of these pages, that I am spoiled and stubborn. I'd convinced myself that I deserved the best of everything and even thought I could afford the best of everything. The latter was a sad reality I learned the hard way. It was a cruel lesson, a humiliating lesson -- but one I learned nonetheless.
Through it all, each and every one of my ups and downs, I had a collection of friends who bore witness to it and helped me from enemies I never expected and, yes, even saved me from my own worst enemy: myself. Looking back at my time here, I drift between outright laughter and sobbing tears; I loved, I lost, loved again, forged bonds of friendship that are stronger than any family tie. They taught me that not only was it all right to be different (aka traditional) but that it was perfectly fine to be myself -- that we are human (or most of us are, anyway) and to be human means to make mistakes. It's what happens after making them that is important. And, even though it took me a handful of years, I discovered more about myself and the person who I want to be.
I want to be Reva Abigail (sometimes Jezebel) Dirmen.
Nothing more, nothing less.
For the longest time, all I ever envisioned was my wedding day. In truth, I think I had every aspect of it planned since I was thirteen and writing in a Hello Kitty journal that had a tiny lock and key for privacy sake. Little did I know then that it opened with a paperclip... but I digress. So much of my younger days was spent daydreaming about become Mrs. So-And-So. When I met Jake back in 2006 and our friendship turned to love, I convinced myself that we'd get married and, yes, live happily ever after. Only... the living part is difficult for Jake since he's... well... dead. Our relationship went through some turbulent times and eventually we -- no, I-- ended it. Why? Because I wanted more.
But every step that I took away from him only brought me that much closer to realizing what I truly wanted. And that was Jake. He had become so much a part of my life that without him... it didn't work. I lived on automatic by doing things I was supposed to do or thought were the right things to do. I was alive but didn't live. It didn't help matters that everything -- and I mean EVERYTHING-- reminded me of him. Flowers, songs, Chinese food. The color black. Cigarettes. Straws. Tattoos. Bowling. Armani. Cary Grant. Flamingos. Long skirts. Squirrels. Football. Glitter. Post-Its. Cliff diving. Ice cream trucks. Stars. Leaves. Snowflakes. Bees and Winnie-the-Pooh. Nuns, priests, rabbis! Big honkin' diamonds. Even light bulbs for crying out loud.
So where are we now? We're trying again. Moving slow and steady, and I'm completely fine with that. We were once the best of friends who fell in love. Now we're two people in love trying to reconnect the same things that made us friends. It's ... complicated. Oh, that crafty word shall always be a part of my vocabulary. Only nowadays, I don't mind it. I refuse to complain about it. It's complicated and I adore every moment I get to share with him. I don't need a ring (because he already gave me one complete with strobe lighting). I don't need a wedding. I don't need the white dress and a ceremony.
All I want is to know that my best friend is in my life again. Just knowing the familiar puff of smoke and a black suit is going to be there when I'm in need of a smile, a laugh, a hug...
... that's my happily ever after.