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I couldn’t quite master the elliptical the other day.
Last week, I started taking personal training sessions. Although it’s hard work and I don’t have too many good thoughts about my training going through my head when I’m actually in my sessions (but she’s really sweet), I’m really excited about it. I’m excited about the end results. If I do all I’m supposed to do, I’ll have my smoking hot body back in just a few months. Well, truth be told, my body will never quite be what it once was because you can never quite go back to the way things used to be.
“Go forward!” Jody, my training, kept encouraging me as she was adjusting all of the levels and whatever on the machine.
But it took me the longest time to get the hang of it. I don’t know why, but I kept cycling backwards. For some odd reason, going backwards just seemed so much easier. Yet, it wasn’t getting me anywhere…
That much it seems can be said about life.
Lately, I’ve wanted to do nothing more than just pack up my bags and go home. I’m just tired of continually forcing myself to put on a bright smile when this dark cloud of loneliness keeps following me around.
I’ve always been one to roll with the punches and make lemonade and all that other stuff they always say to do when faced with adversity. But sometimes it’s just hard to do. Some days I just want to stop fighting back tears and have someone there to lean on and tell me it’s OK. Some days I just want to be myself and not have to work so hard to try to make friends. I just want people to like me for all of the good and the bad. I had that at home.
So, why did I ever leave?
Yet, as much as I want to just head back some days, I know I can’t. I can’t go backwards. There’s no growth in that.
And things have changed. People have moved on, gotten married, fallen out of friendships, created new friendships, and passed away.
So, I’ll just keep moving forward. There is progress to be made. And if I keep moving toward the horizon, one day the sun will rise ahead of me.
She is, indeed, my favorite girl.
It’s 2:30 a.m., and I just woke up about fifteen minutes ago thinking about her. And now with the sound of my downstairs neighbor’s snoring vibrating throughout my bedroom (imagine your cell phone set to vibrate laying right next to you constantly going off; no, I’m not exaggerating in the slightest), I don’t think I’ll be able to fall back asleep for a while.
So, what’s got me all bright-eyed, you’re wondering? A slight panic attack. For the last two days, I have been trying to plan a small afternoon tea for today for my mom’s birthday. Being as though, I am not in possession of my mom’s friends’ phone numbers, I’ve been just trying to invite who comes to mind. Well, at about 2:15 a.m., the names of everyone I’ve forgotten to contact suddenly began to fill my brain, and now it’s pretty much too late to let them know. Oh, no.
Now it will be bothering me all day long. I just want things to be perfect for my mom’s birthday. I always want things perfect for my mom.
Believe it or not, her happiness so often means more to me than my own. But this early morning as I started praying that things will be perfect for my mom, I realized just how little control I have of her happiness. From this distance, all I can really do is pray that she’s happy, which is exactly what I imagine she does for me.
There’s just so much that we have total control over in our lives. But happiness, I suddenly realized, is one of those things. Yeah, things happen to us that aren’t always fair and aren’t always the happiest. But how we respond is totally up to us.
After living in Virginia Beach for about a year and a half now, I have yet to find myself well-adjusted. I haven’t even figured out where I fit into this place.
And while I don’t imagine I will figure all of that stuff out once the sun comes up, I think I can manage to still be happy in the meantime.
