I’ve kept a diary since I was 14 years old, and every New Years I write an exceedingly long and self-reflective entry on that year’s events - what I’ve learned, how I’ve grown, the mistakes I’ve made, the mistakes I vow never to make again, etc.

Here’s the entry I wrote, exactly one year ago today. Talk about dealing with a different set of problems ;)

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Thursday, December 28, 2006
9:05 pm (London time)
en route to Capetown, South Africa

I’m crammed into seat 40K on an 11 hour British Airways flight from London to Capetown … the whole thing seems so surreal (even the hordes of band-geek-kiddies farting in front of me)

[long description of my year]

the whole living a double life thing is more than tiring – it’s a rotting experience. I feel like I’m compromising everything, but I just don’t want to let either of them go. I am actually in love with two men at once. I THOUGHT THAT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE POSSIBLE!!!! WTF?????? Well, it shouldn’t be possible, because human beings (other than Big Love) aren’t into that shit. And the really sad thing? Lying always catches up with you – and I don’t want my relationships – either [redacted] OR [redacted], to have ANY lying involved.

I just wish I could see five years into the future, sliding doors style. I just want to make the right decision here and I FEEL COMPLETELY PARALYZED. I keep thinking it’s going to get better (work itself out, as it were), but it gets worse and worse and more complicated and more complicated.

And so I don’t know what to do, where to go, whom to choose. I’m as lost as I’ve ever been, as torn as I’ve ever been. I would say “only time will tell” but that’s proven to NOT be the case. I just want to be able to live with myself, without that sick feeling of guilt, the horrible grief of hurting someone you love. And someone’s going to get hurt here … all because of my horrible decisions. I’m incredibly disappointed in myself, but not surprised. Which perhaps is sadder than all the rest of it. When will I grow up?

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Fastforward to …

Wednesday, July 4, 2007
10:44 pm
New York, apt 16F

It’s july 4, 2007, and I’m propped up on my big white king sized bed, watching the tiny outlines of the fireworks around manhattan’s bottom tip, listening to the far off boom amidst the utter silence of “my” apt. (A. hasn’t slept here in months, literally, and he’s not due back until August). I can hear the cars faintly through the drizzle (it’s rained off and on all afternoon), and I keep thinking “what an odd way to spend the fourth of july.” I’ve never spent it alone.

And yet, it’s somehow fitting. I’m okay with it. I’ve felt heartbreaking loneliness, but that’s not what I’m feeling right now. I’m just being by myself. Lilly’s next to me, the world is foggy but beautiful, I have a brand new job that actually pays me an actual living *yet still neglects healthcare!*, I’m single and apparently men find me sexy (?!). My entire life seems to stretch before me – much the way lower Manhattan does, as I look out the window, on this rainy Wednesday night in July.

I’ve broken up with A (he has a new girlfriend). I’ve broken up with M (he has a new girlfriend). I’ve broken up with D (he has a new girlfriend).

There are men in my life – but no one special, no one who is going anywhere serious. I’m alone, and yes, I’m sometimes lonely – but this is exactly what I wanted. In the last six months I’ve re-discovered me. And it’s not always easy – when I was in St. Lucia, I couldn’t stop thinking, “How incredibly ironic it is to be in such a beautiful place, and find that solitude amongst beauty increases the depth and poignancy of your loneliness.” All I wanted was to be with [redacted].

And yet, I couldn’t look back and say that I had made the wrong decision. I needed this time, I needed to know what it was like to make my own decisions without checking in with anyone – to live life, for the very first time, as an adult. It’s been incredibly empowering. I have no doubt that my current career success helps this newfound feeling of independence as well – getting the Time Out column and the job at Star, that was huge. But it’s the little moments – sleeping alone. Coming home at night whenever I damn well please. Leaving at the last minute for a trip all by myself. Spending all Sunday just hanging out in my apartment, doing whatever the fuck I want to do. It’s incredible. I’ve never been so free …

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to be continued …