Pieces

I'm not sure if it's scary or comforting to look back on things I've written years ago and realize what I said then is still relevant in my life.  I suppose it depends on what subject matter we're discussing.  If I was talking about universal themes and life in general, then I guess it's comforting to know the world hasn't changed that much.  On the other hand, reading my previous statements on moving forward, the future, and other similar subjects is somewhat frightening to see how little I've actually been able to embrace those declarations and turn them into reality.  Once in a while though, I come across something that I have a new appreciation for.  This is a post from almost a year and a half ago (September 27th, 2009 to be exact), also titled Pieces:

When your life consists of multiple different worlds, it's easy to fall apart slowly. On the other hand, it's also extremely easy to have them all implode simultaneously. Tonight, I let a few of my worlds collide and it was interesting to say the least. It felt like the evening was coming together and crumbling all in the same moment.  

As per usual, I had to set up my office in my room since people combined with alcohol always seem to think it's a good time to have a life talk with me. Not that I mind, it's actually the opposite. Most of the time I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing with my life, it's nice to be able to help someone else make sense of theirs. 

This is something I struggle with constantly; the possibility of losing yet another piece of myself, never to actually get it back. We patch our hearts with empty promises and hope, but we're never quite the same again. I stood before the staff at our annual Princess Sail Away party the other day and delivered an emotional thank you, but how can you really express just how much some people have changed your life? 

So tonight, I throw this out there to anyone that may be carrying a piece of me with them, intentionally or not, thank you for the difference you have made and for the pieces you've left in my care.

From what I remember, I was worried about feeling incomplete because I had given too much of myself away.  What I realized tonight is that I don't want to be complete.  At this point, the option of self-preservation just seems like an empty, lonely life.  I want to keep giving parts of myself away to make room for the pieces I get from my friends.

From late night designated driving (like the wee hours of this morning) to bellini lunches to hotel parties, every moment teaches me something new even if it takes me a while to figure out exactly what it is.  We don't just "patch our hearts with empty promises and hope," we patch it with each other.  We should never be the same as we used to be because that means we've stopped growing.

I used to want normalcy, whatever that actually entails, but now I'm happy with the unexpected (mostly).  It's not enough to just make it through life, focusing of what if's and debating opportunities until they've already passed by.  It's about standing up for what you believe, taking that risk, and possibly falling on your face; and I think I'm finally okay with that.

This being the end of the Princess season, we are faced with the possibility of not really seeing each other over the course of the next several months. It's always a bittersweet time of year since the joy of making it through another season is tainted with goodbye.