The Christmas season as always been a time for me to pause and reflect on the past year. I go back and forth between an excitement for spending a relaxing time with family and good food; and a paralyzing regret that I cannot do certain things and interactions over. It has been a crazy year for me, but I can’t be totally mad because the real me shone all the way through. This year started with a degrading job and ended with a job in a field more my interest that does a lot of good (though the theoretical framework behind it is of questionable morality). This year started with doing well on working towards a bachelor’s I didn’t need which I dropped out of to chase a master’s which to be brutally honest is pretty challenging- I barely passed on account of how professors make slight adjustments to the grading system to benefit the people they like. This year started with my own apartment and ended floating around various Airbnbs and occasionally being homeless. The year started with not much, but decent money. The year ended with even less money, but at least I don’t have to pay back the loans piling on right now. The year started with a solid group of friends and a girl that was constantly bugging me. The year ended with a new group of acquaintances that don’t know me that well and realizing that the girl who I had been intermittently talking to all quarter in actuality thought I was creepy. This year started with feeling like I wanted to commit my life to the Lord again, and ended with the dreadful thought of, have I taken all except my family for a ride? But I have learned a valuable lesson from the downtrodden people that so- called friends and classmates ignore, yet have the audacity to call themselves Christian. I have learned a lesson in the restaurant which I basically operated all on my own with very little resources and now lies vacant. The lesson I learned was to embrace the chaos of it all. I have seen hope and opportunity where others see the end of the world. I have lived up to how St. Lawrence (my confirmation name) showed the Roman authorities a slum and said “these are the treasures of the Church”. Now let me lay down on that griddle and take the punishment with joy.
To Allison, Amy, and any other woman who I’ve either given a hard time on the internet or been too physically forward: I am truly sorry. I want to add a qualifier to that statement though. I want to say, “but you gotta understand that in my past, I…” but then I choke on those words and shed a tear, for I am scared of being a fool for a woman, yet regret that state of things. I am a total dirtbag. You deserve better. Part of me butts in and cries “but what about me?” yet the man I was taught to be pushes that excuse of a man out of the way and says yes, you do deserve better. I say this without seeking pity.
