Surprisingly, I'm not too broken up over it.
Welcome, 2012, and welcome a brand new Project 52. After some careful consideration, I've decided that 2012 would be a good opportunity for me to write essays. Like, at least 52 of them. Christopher Hitchens would be proud. Or maybe not. Hades, I'm not even sure how strictly I would follow the whole "essay" format, either. I just want to write about a random topic a week. Maybe even focus on a theme for a month or something.
Anyways, that being said, consider January a month of essays about love and heartbreaks. The funny thing is, I know I should save that for February, but who knows? I might just do two months of love and heartbreak, or three months. Or six. Or the entire bloody year. I don't know, really, and as much as I'd like to give some rhyme and reason to the stuff I'm writing, I can't really guarantee any of that now, can I?
So maybe... let's just say I'm starting with this one because this is all about new beginnings. I could turn January into a month themed on beginnings and exciting new discoveries, or something along those lines, and this whole discussion about 12/12/12 is really just a callback to the fact that my first ever post in 2011 was the 12/12/12 post. It feels fitting to do this post for my first Project 52 in 2012, I suppose.
That being said, 12/12/12 was an act of pure whim and caprice for me a year ago. As I lay there broken-hearted without having so much as a faint picture as to who that person could possibly be, I went with a post that catered to the hopeless romantic in me. In most of us, really. It felt great to just express that heartfelt love to nobody in particular, to find no fear whatsoever in rejection, seeing as there was nobody to reject my proposal to nobody.
It was harmless, it was sweet, and as KDL and the rest of the Disenchanted Kingdom found out, it was also potentially profitable if you sold the church reservation to somebody else. But that's neither here nor there, and it's more about where I'm headed, and what's going to happen on 12/12/12 now, knowing there's still nobody in my life to make that date a reality.
S'funny, because I've finally learned to be careful what you wish for, and to walk away from a bad situation before it gets worse. I think the past whole year I've had to stew over 12/12/12 and the reality that it isn't happening because, as someone dead to me has pointed out correctly, I really know how to pick 'em. At least, the ones I invest a chunk in. Boy, what a doozy.
So maybe it's me, and it's not them. Sure. That's a valid analysis of the situation, and I shouldn't really play the blame game, even if in reality, I don't feel as attached to the notion of getting married at all, let alone on 12/12/12, ever since I've had some... perspective. A forced perspective, if you will, but one that still provided me with a clearer vantage, regardless.
So now, I look at 12/12/12 with... ambivalence. I guess I was expecting to look at it with scorn, but that isn't the case. I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing, though, that I don't really care about 12/12/12 much either way to write anything violently against it, or right anything sappily for it. It's just turned into an intellectual exercise for me now, about how my sense of sentimentality demands of me to do certain things in certain ways. It's a bit unnerving to think about it that way, but the truth can really be unnerving, after all.
So when 12/12/12 happens, there won't be any wedding bells for me, and even if I, by some miracle, find love again, I'd be taking my dear sweet time, like I always have, and not rushing to settle down. It just isn't that important to me anymore. I've learned to walk away and cut away the vexations to my soul, and that's perhaps the greatest thing I have learned in the past year.
As the new year begins, while it's not a message swimming in positivity, learning to cut away at the things that hold you back would do you a world of good. It will, at the very least, prove surprisingly liberating. You deserve it, and you owe it to yourself.