Wasted Years

I've lived in my own house for one year.  It's been a good year, with lots of changes and lots of firsts.  But every now and then I am reminded that I live alone in this space.  Sure, Zoey (my dog) is here, but at the end of the day I'm here all alone.  I have my family and I have my friends and I am very happy to have both.   I really like my job and have plenty of things that keep me busy and make me happy. 

 

Sometimes I just wonder if this is how it's going to be, like, always.

 

When I moved to North Carolina I felt like I was running away from home.  Sure, my parents were here by then, but I just picked up and left my whole life in California.  People who loved me.  Friends I still miss (especially on New Year's Eve).  I used to think that being alone was my punishment for doing something so reckless.  Have I just imagined that? 

 

I think at some point there was a choice to be made and I was so astonished at the repercussions of one, I forgot to make any others.  Instead I stood still, waiting for the next choice, waiting for things to happen to me instead of making things happen.  After a few years, I changed my mind.  I chose to buy my house.  So, with all the growing pains of this past year and nothing but the future ahead of me, I'm hoping for no more wasted years.