my year.

Sometimes we are wrong about things. That is hard for me to admit, given the streak of stubbornness that inhabits my entire body, but, yes, sometimes even I am wrong. It is so easy for us to assert that we know everything when we have been given only the smallest bit of the information but I think it is part of us as humans in a way – make connections in all situations no matter what.

A few months ago I said this would be my year. Or, that it very well already was my year. I was still running on a high from my trip to Ireland, had just quit my job in management and was moving out on my own for the first time. It is easy to see how I thought it would be the best year of my life.

I learned quickly that post-vacation highs rarely last longer than the trip itself, that sometimes jobs you thought you wanted were not even close to what was in your heart, and moving out on your own involved a lot more than paying rent. They were not necessarily hard lessons to learn but all together they took a toll on me and I felt a little lost. I scoffed at the girl who ever thought this year was going to go well.

Except then I found myself a job in a bookstore and fell in love with working with books (what a surprise). I went back to the cafe I managed as a regular old employee. I went back through my postings and pictures from Ireland and once in awhile, even now, I will be standing somewhere in Toronto and have a flash of some area of Ireland, usually Dublin, go across my mind and it will settle me.

Sometimes things may not work out the way you thought they were going to but I am learning that this is okay.

Soon I was writing blog posts about the annoyances of online dating and less than a week later found myself talking to a guy who immediately stole my heart. I will not say it to him but I will say it here (which I suppose is a little cowardly given that he will read this) but… he is a bit of an asshole. Not in a mean way, just in the way in which he sat down at a piano and sang on one of our first dates and overdressed in case I underdressed so that I could be warm and brought me flowers at work and told me from the beginning that his intentions were me. I had no choice in the matter, really, the heart wants what it wants and all that other cliche love stuff, but really… Ah, I guess I am beyond elated that he is an asshole in that sense. I will admit it.

And now we are moving in together and the world has taken a turn for the better that I never, ever would have saw coming at any other point this year. Except for maybe when he was sitting at that piano.

My nieces are growing, crawling, standing, talking in their baby noises. My best friend is engaged (!!!). My parents are finally getting to redo their children’s rooms to no longer accommodate children.

And now I am renting out my apartment after breaking my lease early to a girl named Caitlin who is a librarian for the CBC and has to move out of her other apartment because she is breaking up with her boyfriend. They are moments like that when you cannot help but believe the universe is doing a little work, and a little smiling, for you.

There is a lot to be said for things coming together. There is a lot to be said for finding your lobster (if you don’t watch friends, you won’t understand that) when you never expected to. There is a lot to be said for having the greatest friend in the world. For having the greatest family in the world. For being a lot of confused about what you want to do for the rest of your life but a little okay with waiting to find out.

This may very well be my year. And I am so happy that it is not in the way I thought it would be.

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