starting the new year with a journalling

[lotesse]

Once again making an attempt to return to the habit of lifewriting; I think after my grandmother died last spring I got choked up as a singular speaker, but it's time to take it up again.

I feel like a plant in a glass terrarium: I'm surviving, but I've nowhere to grab onto and put down any roots or climb higher.

That might be changing soon. I'm about 6 months into a romantic relationship with a nice steady nerdy guy, A., about my age, former unofficial stepparent to a bunch of teenagers, currently living alone out in the burbs with his cat in his midcentury house. Not where I ever imagined myself, but when I think myself out there I don't feel any kind of bad about it. I could have a garden, and a library! And a bunch of savings, to boot.

But it's hard, hard, hard, to find the big hopefulness inside. Or trust it, when I do brush up against it. And it's hard to write it out, or speak it.