A New Direction.

I debated ending this blog. "Long-Distance Lovers" turned me into something like a masochist, forcing me to dig into the darkest depths of my soul and the most delicate part of my heart in order to recount instances of heartbreak that would make for a great post. And while I'm always pleased with the finished product, my spirits get low, at least for the first few hours after posting. And it was a lot easier when I was actually hurting. I didn't have to search for those gut-wrenching emotions, because they were always present, I was always needing to vent, and always feeling them.

But not anymore. Now, I'm happy, and have been for a while.

2 weeks ago, I had a revelation.

After my recent ex and I broke up, I'd constantly talk to family and friends about our demise, searching for answers and writing open letters that I never actually planned to deliver to him. It was cathartic--spilling every emotion and thought onto the paper. And then I started this blog. Even though I was getting over how things ended, I'd constantly dwell on aspects of our relationship, and that would pull me 5 steps back after I prided myself in taking 10 steps forward. I'd look at his Facebook page. When I was bored, I'd wander over to his Twitter. I'd sit and think about everything I'd say if I ever saw him again. And while I suddenly woke up surprised that this "time" I heard so much about actually did heal my wounds, seeing pictures of him and status updates really vexed my spirit. I went from heartbreak to anger, which did me no good; the opposite of love isn't hate, but rather indifference. I hadn't reached the state of indifference. A close male friend of mine and a mentor of sorts once told me, "Fuck him. Pretend he died. Don't check his social networks. There's nothing there for you anymore," but it wasn't always that easy. I was used to seeing what he was up to, and it was hard to quit cold turkey. I was enjoying being a masochist; there would NEVER be anything on his social networks that would make me happy, but anything could trigger my rage. The mere sight of his face could trigger it. But here I was, curing my boredom with emotional cutting. I had to stop, but how?

When I went home for Christmas, I was greeted with a beautiful new car that was everything I didn't even know I wanted. I didn't ask for a new car. To be honest, when my parents asked what I wanted for Christmas, I said "just new contact lenses and gym clothes. Oh, and a job." Not only did I get contact lenses and gym clothes, but I chauffeured my brother and his new wife around in my new car. My entire family sat around the table and talked about life, love, and careers, and I was so full of love. I had every reason to be happy. I was in a state of sheer bliss, and refused to let emotional cutting ruin my holiday. It had been a while since I looked at his page, and not coincidentally, I couldn't remember the last time I was in a funk. There was no way I was checking up on any of his social networks. There was nothing for me there. I got rid of every email, letter...anything I had on my hard drive, my room, or my car that reminded me of a painful past, determined to go into the New Year not holding onto the things that should be left in 2012.

The day after Christmas, I jetted back to NYC in a horrible storm to make it for another interview at Girl Scouts of the USA. I was confident in my abilities, but refused to let the fact that it was my 3rd interview render me confident and complacent. I prepared, studied my resume, and mapped out social media strategies in case they wanted to see what I can do for the company. I nailed my interview, and found out New Year's Eve that I got the job. Unreal. My dream company, and I'm working for it.

Then it hit me.

God is making SO many things happen for me because I simply sat back and let Him take control over my life. I learned to trust him completely. No matter what may or may not happen the way I want it to, I know God has a better plan for me, and because I put this trust in Him, He's giving me unspeakable joy and peace that surpasses all understanding. Why would I throw all of that away by emotional cutting when I'm bored? It would be a slap in God's face to continue thinking about/writing about/and keeping tabs on the past when He's making the present an absolute dream. So, I won't. And for weeks, I haven't. I have no desire to see what exes are doing. I have no desire to speak to those who have hurt me. I wish them well, and I pray for them (I hate doing it, but my mama taught me to do that.), but I'm ready to leave them in the past and never speak of them again. It feels good, this "new beginnings" thing.