This time last year, on December 31st, 2011, I made some New Year’s resolutions:
* I wanted to give up smoking.
* I also wanted to avoid falling in love with the following people – drug addicts, compulsive liars, cheaters, wife-beaters, emotional fuck-ups, attention seekers, and general fucktards. It was all very Bridget Jones, but I remember feeling very strong about the resolution I made as I posted it to Facebook.
* I also said that I’d get my shoe-buying habit in check.
So … how did I do with my resolutions?
As I look back and reflect over the last year, I realise just how much of a rollercoaster I’ve been through … again. I lost someone who I thought was the love of my life. He might not have died, but with his drug and attitude problem throwing spanners in the works every five minutes, our relationship definitely did. Because of that, I moved from The Other Side of the World back to my home town and had to rebuild my life again. For the second time. But we’ll talk about the first time at some other time.
Since my return, I’ve jacked seven boys. Four of those were new, never fucked before. I’ve been in two ‘proper’ relationships and one ‘sort-of’ relationship. I’ve fallen in love once (I think), bagged myself a new job, lost 60 pounds in weight … and put a couple of them back on again. I’ll start the diet again soon.
I wanted 2012 to be a good year, and in some ways it really was. I never thought I’d manage to lose the weight, but I did. And I didn’t think I’d fall in love again, but I have. Kinda. I think. But it wasn’t meant to be that way. The start of 2012 was meant to have been the start of a new chapter with Big Love and I, with all past mistakes erased.
“We’ll start afresh in 2012, make things better again,” we agreed. But of course, it didn’t happen.
As well as our relationship, I failed at a lot of other things. I did quit smoking but then started up again, and although I didn’t fall in love with another drug addict, I did date one. The Guy I Couldn’t Get Rid Of was dancing close to the line of addiction, and I don’t think it would’ve taken much more to push him over the edge. The fact that he didn’t turn up to my birthday party because he was off of his face on cocaine, partying the night away, kinda proves my point.
But as for falling in love with compulsive liars and general fucktards … I’m not sure that I can say that. One Ball has made his fair share of mistakes so far, and he’s lied an awful lot too. More so than was necessary, that’s for sure.
I gained a few people in my life in 2012. New work colleagues that turned into friends, and a few randomers that got added to my friends list along the way. 75 new friends, according to Facebook. I lost a few people too. The Lapdog is one of them. My Mr. Grey magically disappeared from the scene again, just like he does every time we get together, fall in love with one another again, and then are both too scared to do anything real about it. Same story. Always.
As well as telling me that I’d added 75 friends to my list, Facebook always showed me that I’d gotten far too drunk in 2012, and I went to a lot of clubs that I wouldn’t want to admit ever stepping foot in. I spent lots of time at various beaches, dyed my hair so many times that I’m super lucky that it hasn’t all fallen out yet, and went to anniversary parties, birthday parties, festive gatherings galore. I wore outfits that I’m not proud of, been single a lot, and done practically bugger all else. No big adventures. No massive love stories. No life-changing events. Well, apart from moving from one side of the world to the other, obviously.
I thought 2012 was going to be a brand new beginning for me, but it just turned into a massive rewind. I ended up right back where I was seven years ago before all of my crazy world-wandering adventures began. It was a crazy few years too. I got married and moved to three different countries, on three different continents. I travelled. I found love. I lost love. I separated from my husband, started six new jobs, lived in seven new places, slept with FAR TOO MANY people, broke a lot of hearts, and lost a lot of friends that I’m probably going to miss one day.
I’ve made some great memories, though. I want so desperately to forget about this crappy year, but even though it has been truly crappy, there have been some really great times thrown in there, too. I can’t snub the fun and laughter I’ve had along the way. Like the first few nights out I had with my sister who is now legally allowed to drink with me. And the movies I went to see, high, with Bestie. And the crazy fuck-fest I had with My Mr. Grey. And the awesome weekend I spent with The Lapdog, rocking out on MDMA … So many awesome memories. New memories, new places, new people …
Has it even really been a failure of a year, then?
As we head into a new year and a new chapter, I’m determined to make it MY year. I’m refusing to make New Year’s resolutions because I think resolutions are inevitably broken. Instead, I’ve created a few goals:
I want to give up smoking. Again.
I’d like to make some progress in my new career.
I want to see where things go with One Ball and hope not to get my heartbroken at the end of it.
I want to find somewhere new to live, alone.
I want to visit a country I’ve never been to before.
I want to go back to The Other Side of the World to hug the people I left behind in such a hurry.
I want to say “I’m over him” and mean it when I talk about Big Love.
But more than all of those things, I want to cry and make lots of mistakes. I want to laugh and make new memories. I want to travel around my home country because it’s overlooked with so many new places around the globe to explore. I want to get drunk and party, shag boys, make and lose friends … because all that is evolving, right? And isn’t that what we’re all doing: constantly evolving and moving, the good stuff *and* the bad?
Good luck to all of you in 2013, and good luck to me, too.
Ciao, 2012. You’ve been one HELL of a ride!