Another Manic Monday

Today is nothing of note.

For many years prior to now it’s been something I plan for and around. For half my life it was one of the more significant days of the year.

And now it’s just another Monday like the other 50+ we see in a year.

They say firsts are the hardest to go through, though I question that because it suggests that grief and healing are linear. It’s possible that the tenth time i live through this day after the fact it will hit me hard out of nowhere.

You really never know.

I didn’t save money for anything extraordinary today. I didn’t make decorations and I didn’t plan any special meals. For the very first time in twenty years, today I will just be.

It would not be so difficult to “just be” if I could forget.

If I could not catch my mind wandering around in my historical database, pulling out snapshots of messy homemade cakes and party planning. If I could stop replaying the enthusiastic voice when I really got the gifts right.

If I could stop replaying the last year I was in active addiction and I relapsed today, of all days.

If I could stop hearing the phrase uttered in July, “maybe you try but you don’t get it right.”

For every grandiose gesture I made, every act of love I planned for weeks… There is a counterpart memory of how difficult I have been. What a nightmare my insecurities were.

Today I’m going to put one foot in front of the other. I’m going to take deep breaths and try to remember to stay in the present.

For the first time in twenty years I’m going to attempt to conduct myself like today is just another Monday in February.

It didn’t used to be nothing to me, but now it is.