The Rear View

I spent Thanksgiving alone. I wasn’t meant to, but an early morning text from my Aunt Nancy indicated my cousin Scott was sick and thus, Thanksgiving would be pushed a day later to Friday. No big deal, right? Wrong. What was I going to do? OMG, spend it alone? WTF?! Fuccckkkkkk. Mentally, emotionally and spiritually, I just wasn’t prepared for this shit. Holiday or not, I’m weary. Okay, that’s actually not the right word, so here’s the right sentence: I’m sick of being fucking alone. Oh I know I know – you just ended your toxic relationship a little less than five months ago, Lisa! You need time! Relax! Everything will be fine! You’ll meet the right one eventually. You’re so impatient – jeez! Enjoy your alone time! Relish in it! Enjoy being with YOU!

Eye roll.

Instead of taking a Xanax (or two) and watching Lady Dynamite on Netflix (again) and feeling sorry for myself (some more) and eating every Ritter Sport I had in my kitchen (seven of them, ranging in flavors from “Butter Biscuit” to “Caramel Mousse”), I decided to go on a very long hike. Get out of myself, get in nature, get some endorphins going – you feelin’ me?

Thanksgiving 2017 was an unusually clear day in L.A. Smog typically hides the city and views of the ocean, but on this day, the City of Angels was clear, as in crystal. Climbing, I turned back to look at her a couple of times, this crazy sprawling metropolis that I just can’t seem to quit. The doing so made me wobbly; I nearly fell. Regaining my balance, I realized this was my lesson: to stop looking back. Up until this point, I hadn’t really understood the extent to which I’d been doing it. Sure, I’d though about him (and that him and that other him) almost every day. And well, gee, sure, I’d been thinking about every mistake I’d ever made a lot lately, every different turn this way or that I could’ve taken, but didn’t. And well, yeah, I’d been playing out different scenarios in my head over and over (and over and…) until I was spinning like an out of control dreidel under a Christmas tree, confused on where I belonged.*

The rear view. It isn’t serving me anymore. I’m here – and all those mistakes, all those choices, all those dumb motherfuckers I wasted so much of my precious energy and time on, are but theoretical objects that, although I’ve been straining to see them, I hardly can anymore. The looking back is what has been hurting me.

My forced time alone on Thanksgiving was a gift. Up the canyon I kept climbing. When I got to the top, I cried and laughed at the same time.** Los Angeles was spread out like a vision before me and I could see every little thing so clearly – the ocean, the endless possibilities, the happy life I’ve been afraid to lead, the people I’ve yet to meet…and the bottom from where I started. It was all beautiful.

@littlebrownbutterfly

*Christmas or Hanukkah, which do you celebrate? I mean goddamn, LIsa, figure it out already.

** “Laughing and crying, you know it’s the same release.” – Joni Mitchell

2 Thoughts on “The Rear View

  1. You always were a great writer. I don’t know how I stumbled across this but I’m glad I did. Glad to see you’re still writing and doing well.

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