The Phoenix

Rebirth.

Isn't that the metaphor for spring? Then what is the metaphor for summer? Besides hot and sticky? No. Not metaphors. Adjectives.

I'm sitting at work, completing the meaningless tasks part-time employees finish when there is nothing else to do. So, whenever the page that I'm updating loads, I quickly type a line here.

My mind has been drifting away with thoughts of metaphors, absolutes, love, family, and summer.

Brooklyn is an absolute for me. I belong here like I have never belonged anywhere. I feel it in my bones, in the salt of my sweat, in my dyed and damaged hair follicles. But with that absolute comes other absolutes. My right contact will always dry quickly; it's done this since the July day in 2009 I moved here, probably due to the pollution. I will always crave Mexican food. I will always try my best to keep my utilities at a low cost.

But in this transition and assimilation to New York, I've also begun to realize how we react to those souls who come in contact with us and the purpose they serve in our lives.

My roommate. I don't think there are words invented for an unbreakable soul such as hers. She's been the best roommate I've had, and she's been there for me when I needed her most. I've gotten stronger and have learned a lot about myself and about life because of her. I know this seems vague and perhaps a bit cliche, but it's true.

My first love. He was there for the transition, the original move. He was there to break my heart. One day, I should thank him for doing so; I learned that I can survive heartbreak. Unfortunately, my damned Scorpio attitude might never allow me to speak to him again. And that's fine by me.

My new friend. The Russian Jew. She's this wonderful, brightly glowing beauty who managed to sneak into my life and into my heart. Although she has a bit of a cynical side, she is my positive energy. She keeps me in balance, and together we learned how to let go of the past, of the men who no longer wanted us. I'm so lucky.

My new boy. He came out of nowhere like a loud, crazy, blue-eyed, confident cartoon character in an old Looney Tunes airing on The WB. He takes the train 40 min to visit me after he's finished with work at 9:45 PM, even if for only a few hours. He makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel loved again in that way only a man can. He makes sure to take me from Manhattan to Brooklyn in a cab late at night, even though he can't afford it. I see beauty inside of him. And I think I may love him.

I have to work, and I have much more to say, but I know that this is a new beginning. I know that although we make our own destinies, everything happens for a reason. God only wants to make us stronger. I know it.

<3