Resolutions

"In 2010, I resolve to write more."

That was one of the few New Year's resolutions I quietly thought about, lying on my couch on New Year's Eve. I usually start thinking about the new year and changes I want to make in my life in November, the end of my year. Seems like a more honest time to reflect.

"What kind of 24 year old do I want to be?"

Year four was the one where I hung out with my dad all the time. Office in the morning, a nap at two, then wake up and watch Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles before my siblings got home.

Year six was the one where I fell out of a tree and broke both my wrists. I don't remember the fall but remember the casts that extended past my elbows. I remember how hard it was to use the restroom with those things on. I was never so happy before in my life to wear pants with no button or zipper.

Year fourteen was the one where I started to consider that God doesn't exist.

Up in the Rocky Mountains at a youth Church camp, the ritual on the final night was to sit around a fire and write down our deepest darkest secret on a little square card for only God to read. The counselor collected all of the campers cards at the end of a stick and placed them over the fire, cooking them into "a beautiful black rose." Clever. But my secret didn't burn up into the cool, starry Colorado sky that night. It was the first time I had shared my dirty little secret--the first time I had ever put it into words. It was the exact moment my life had turned a corner.

"What did your card say?" she asked me in the quiet of night, minutes away from falling asleep in my lap on the 22 hour bus ride back to Texas. At first I refused to say, but I had to rescue the words from the pile of ashes my counselor had left them in.

"I don't believe you exist."

Year fourteen was also the one where I kissed a beautiful girl on a bus ride from Colorado after sharing my deepest, darkest secret with her.

So, what will year twenty-for be? Will it be the one where I buy my first house, or the one where I tried?

Will it be the one where I get better and managing my finances, or the one where I tried?

Will it be the one where I don't eat so much pizza, ride my bike more and drop a few pounds in the process, or the one where I didn't try hard enough?

Will it be the one where I use my free time to write and create instead of trolling through twitter and message boards? The one where I write and publish 52 times, once every Thursday?

Or will it just be the year that I tried? CW