Winter brought the Move Out. Our things were packed in copy paper boxes that I took from the office. The big black marker labeled the boxes “His” and “Hers” as we filtered our six years together into two separate piles. Memories were trapped inside of shoeboxes. We spilt the set of “ugly dishes” between the two of us. He took his black cat and I took the calico. And I left. To live completely on my own for the first time in my whole life. I paid rent. And all the bills. I reclaimed my heart when I moved out, but as time passed, I gave it to another.

Spring brought Six Until Me. Borne out of a conversation with Chris and in pursuit of others living with the same condition, I started my blogging endeavor and found others. Just a few at first. I stumbled upon Violet first and her writing served as Solace. It continues to. And then insightful, supportive Sandra. And Amy and her unflagging dedication. To Tek and her life undaunted. And Dee, with his beautiful, smiling daughter. Nothing brings me more hope than reading about the lives of these people, all these fantastic people, who are living with this every day. Just like me.

Summer brought the beach. And tan lines. And stuffing the pump into a cooler while I went to play in the water. It brought trips to The Block and late nights at the movies. A tiny kitten came into my life and she ate through my pump wire while I slept. I totaled my car on a rainy Thursday morning in June and cried more because of the loss of that car than the airbag burns coursing up my forearm. I fell in love with The Boy completely as he tolerated sand on his feet for me.

Fall brought the Itch. The itch to get out of my scathingly boring insurance job and pursue something Better. Something that requires thought. Something that allows me to use my creativity, ambition, and confident presentation to bring about great change. Time to start my career. Falls also brought my first JDRF walk, as Team Six Until Me. The support of my family, friends, and boyfriend yielded an impressive donation total. The decision to write The Book was finalized. I thwarted the Evil Cotton Wool Spot. And The Boy and I decided to share one home instead of straddling between two.

And now there are Promises. The promises of a Big Move next year. The promise of my first cruise. The promise of delicious martinis to come. The promise of an icy winter giving way to the quintessential rebirth of spring. The promise of the 27th year of my life being one of change and excitement. Of health and happiness. Of the many sprawling pages of my book. Of the growth of this community. Of the actualization of my writing career. Of continuing to smile.

Of everything.

A safe and peaceful new year to each and every one of you.