By 10:00 PM, I was ready to shut it down. After all, it was a Thursday, and I was flat out exhausted. I’d probably had two beers total all night, but also had not eaten since brunch, which was way earlier that day. I didn’t have the chance to eat any of the six or seven pizzas I’d ordered for everyone! However, I did relish in the fact that everyone told me how delicious it was.
Boo. I loved pizza. I wanted pizza, damnit! I guess that’s just how it goes when you’re running around trying to meet and greet everyone at your own party.
Right after packing up, we decided to go to a nearby hole-in-the-wall to order some cheeseburgers to go and have a much-needed nightcap. We walked out, and lo and behold, it was snowing!
Now, I know most people would prefer to live in a sunny, hot, swampy beach town like where I lived. But not me. I loved snow. I loved cold. I loved this state that gave everyone who made the tough decision to live there the prize of all four seasons. In that moment, I stopped dead in my tracks, on my near-April birthday, and I looked to the streetlight.
Huge sparkles shimmied down from the sky above like a soft glitter explosion. It was breathtaking.
This snow… it was for me. Wet, shiny, peaceful snowflakes… all for me. I reveled in this humble feel of nature that is completely outside of our control. It felt like the universe was aligned, and my place in life was exactly where it was meant to be.
Had it taken me forty-three-fucking-years to get here? Yep. Had I felt ashamed of the choices I had made in my past? Yep. Had my beliefs of love been that far skewed my entire life? Yep. Had I finally realized that it’s normal to love yourself and believe in yourself? Also, yep.
With every unique snowflake that fell around me, I felt unique about every “shituation” I had gone through. Each one gave me a perspective that pushed me forward, pushed me to be this girl.
This girl, the one standing on a street just outside Detroit, in a delicate little light pink dress and basic Amazon flip flops (cause fuck the heels, I’d already tossed them in my bag), feeling the crisp and bitter air on my skin, breathing in the all-too-familiar briskness… was fucking happy.
I shook off the overwhelming feeling and realized what would make me even happier. Some fucking food.
