Year Two.

Year Two. It’s been a strange world, two years without dad by my side. Fleeting memories cause a long, labored sigh filled with every emotion in the spectrum triggered by everything that we’ve been through, that we went through. Everything still reminds me of him, many of which in the happiest of ways, our fruit and the natural world for example. I spent Year One in a deep, introspective mourning while publicly sharing many of my sorrowful thoughts because keeping them inside seemed too lonely to bare. One thing that struck me today was not having someone I could talk to without feeling like I was wasting their time. He’d listen intently on how I saved a dollar, he doesn’t make fun of my roundabout way of storytelling. It didn’t matter what we talked about, just the sheer enjoyment of sitting next to him was enough for me. I just realized that is one thing that has been lacking — sitting next to someone for the sake of sitting next to him or her.

But out of the darkness, choices emerge. I choose no longer to look down. I choose no longer to suffer. These choices are more than words on a screen, they’re made very actively with heartfelt determination.

“I am not a disgrace. I am vengeance! I am the night! I am Batman!” — Batman: The Animated Series

It’s been a new world. Year Two opened with a grand inadvertent adventure, all because I chose to adventure instead of stay inside. I thought about myself for once relative to those around me instead of the other way around. Like a new pup, I slowly started to sniff out and paw at the intriguing and fascinatingly ordinary things that the kids my age were already accustomed to.

Year Three will continue to progress. I’m throwing myself out there, getting into situations where I’m (safely) out of my comfort zone and nervous, the way I have been actively doing for the last three or four weeks.

It’s exciting, I’m nervous, but the best part is everything is new and I feel great.