auf wiedersehen, adios, adeiu

Good bye, 2007. I've waited for this send off for many dragging months, and now that 2008 is in its final approach for landing (tray tables in the upright and locked position), I'm inexplicably pensive. And afraid. Afraid that 2008 won't be different. Afraid it will instead bring more hurt, more pain, more longing for something that feels all at once unattainable and unimaginable to live without, more friends who grow distant and silent when I most need encouragement and support, more unanswerable question marks, more tears and puffy eyes that never quite lose that sad shadow only I can see in the mirror each morning. I've counted on this new start for some time now, thought of it like a fresh new page in a cluttered and messy book, a large step forward toward what will be.....and now that it has nearly arrived I can only trust, and hope, and believe that through all this bad will come good. That the psychic my friend saw on Montel was right, and 2008 is a year to finish what was started in 2007 (thanks, Kekis, for that). That after all this, hope is not lost, our time will come.

I refused to leave the house tonight. Celebration seemed somehow awkward, something foreign. More fitting, I felt, to curl up with my five loving companions. J's eyes are heavy at the other end of the couch, remote still possessively in his grip, and sandwiched between us are three sleeping pets (the other on the floor- we've only got so much couch space), all blissfully oblivious to the revelry all around save for the occasional firecracker outside. We're cozy, we're calm, we're damn near geriatric for being in our sweats before 10 on New Years Eve. But this fits, this seems a proper expiration. In a way drinking and laughing and socializing just did not.

I hate to come off sounding ungrateful for all that did go right in 2007. There's much that I cherish, and no amount of self indulgent blogging changes my thankfulness for those things. My mom's health and the unwavering support my parents offer each and every day. J's total lack of epileptic symptoms. Our beautiful new home looking more and more "us" all the time. Our precious new addition to the petting zoo, and the health of his cohorts. Those friends (old ones like Michelle and Jenny, new ones like Lisa) who were there, who held me tight and brought optimism and love to the toughest times. My amazing, amazing sister and brother, supportive through things they can't and shouldn't understand and wonderfully distracting with their texts and irreverent facebook pokes. My PL support group, those girls who KNOW, who care which cycle day it is, how my boobs feel or don't feel, and who ask whether I'll pee on something soon. And of course- the most simple of things that we do have- food, clothing, warmth, love. I know I'm blessed. I know I've got much to be thankful for. It's just that, in a way I can't describe to someone who hasn't experienced this...there's someone missing now. Two beautiful, beloved someones. They're missed so dearly and as I leave 2007, a part of me feels they're being left behind as well, when they should be here, or well on their way here. Not locked up in my heart, all evidence of their existance tucked in a green memory box beside my bed. They're so loved, and my only hope is that this love we feel, this undirected huge aimless amount of love we have, will soon be poured upon one very spoiled little babe.

Anyway, Happy New Year to you, from our couch to yours. Here's to 2008.