When I was little I remember knowing exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I wanted to be “like mommy,” and I would play house and make art and dance around in my dad’s old UW baseball hat, overalls, and lacy socks with hiking boots. And the only time I ever cried hard was when the boys wouldn’t let me play baseball with them because I was “a baby.”
When I was a teenager all I cared about was the boy with the beautiful blue eyes in 3rd period. I remember the boys who all used to be so mean to me a year ago would try to steal kisses in between classes and suddenly my life revolved around boys and hooking up on Friday nights in the backseat of his old car on Cottonwood Lane.
At 17, all I cared about was trying to not make it to the next day. I would spend every day destroying myself and all I wanted to do was lay in the dark and cry. The boy with the blue eyes was now kissing the girl with the green eyes and that summer I moved away from Cottonwood Lane.
Now I’m 20 years old and about to move into my first apartment with my fiance. For the first time in my life I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to do, and for once, that’s ok with me. I no longer want to die, and the nights that the demons come to try to pick a fight he’s always right there to make sure they don’t win. The boy with the blue eyes married the green eyed girl and they live in my old house on Cottonwood Lane. I don’t play baseball, but I’m always cheering on my fiance whenever he plays.
It’s amazing how life can do that to you, you know? One day you think you’ve got your life planned out and everything seems so easy and then the next day everything is changing and life is spinning you around until you’re laying in the hospital and begging to live instead of begging to die. And then you meet the man of your dreams and somehow you’re able to smile and laugh again without thinking about the boy with the beautiful blue eyes, because now you’ve got a man who has an even more beautiful smile and doesn’t only whisper “I Love You,” in the smoky backseat of his car and then makes you walk back home after he’s done with you.
Maybe for some people hitting rock bottom is where your life really begins. At least that’s where my story begins.