After you shatter your life to billions of tiny pieces, the only thing left is to start putting it back together. One piece at a time. Put one foot in front of the other and try not to fall. If you don’t fall, it’s a good day. Sometimes you have to re-learn how to walk. Because turns out, you weren’t really walking very well the first time around. More like limping kind of, but you didn’t know you were even doing it. It’s like when you’re little and you’re so excited to learn how to crawl, and you’re so proud of yourself for learning how to crawl, but then you learn about this thing called walking and you’re like wait a minute. WTF HAVE I BEEN DOING ALL MY LIFE?! And then even if you fall when you’re walking it’s still way better than crawling? (Not that I remember what it felt like to be 2, but having observed some small children over the past few years I’m just annotating what I think is going through their heads. Also there is no way to confirm or deny this so I’m going with the analogy).
You don’t know what you don’t know until you know it, right?
It’s really hard not to get really mad at yourself though. HOW IS THIS NOT FIGURED OUT YET? Oh yeah. Because I broke this. On purpose. And on accident. A purposeful accident. Accident because you didn’t know what the end result would be. But on purpose because what you had before just wasn’t cutting it and you were willing to take that leap of faith to say that the next thing has to be better than what I have now. Kind of like the (almost) first blog post. Coming full circle. I guess that’s what gives me faith to do it again. I did this once before. Almost 6 years ago. And it worked out ok. In fact, it worked out better than I could have imagined. Not perfect, obviously, but what’s really perfect anyway? (Except George Clooney- I think he is the exception that proves the rule, I’m just saying).
I think I just need to give myself that last push off the ledge to go for it. 6 years ago was easier because guess what. I didn’t have anything to lose (or if I did I wasn’t really thinking about it). Being young and dumb has its perks. I’m still dumb and young but not dumb enough to know nothing about what I’m doing this time around and exactly what I’m giving up. There are pros and cons to this. I think that means it’s harder to do it this time around, but I think chances of success are also significantly higher. Mostly because if there was a mistake, I’ve probably already made it. At least the easy ones. I’ve made a significant number of those.
Isn’t it weird to think of your life as a bunch of mistakes that you just feel less shitty about over time? That’s slightly depressing. I feel like there’s a more poetic and less depressing way to say this, but I can’t think of it right now. I’m definitely not at the point where I’m looking back at this time in life and saying oh, how cute. That was definitely needed to do X, Y, and Z and I’m so glad I did it. I’m still at the…oh lord please don’t let all hell break loose and yes I’m really really grateful for this second chance and all but please help me fuck up less this time or at least if I do please make it feel less like I’m going to DIE and more like…a paper-cut (still painful because I’m a baby and have no pain tolerance, but you know, if I have to be in SOME kind of pain, this is preferable- can you make a note of this please, should I send it to your secretary? Maybe email? Has Google reached you yet??). K Thanks.