Slinky version 2.0

2009 has been...difficult.

In January, I watched the last sunset extinguish itself against the horizon in a place that no longer exists. That place broke my heart every day, but I was sorry to leave it nevertheless. I left a little piece of myself there, and the memory of all of you at he barbecue and running with The Fuzzy in the field behind my moorhen paradise will longer long.

In April, I lost my love. Along with that, I lost any comprehension of how life was supposed to go on. I lost focus. I lost all common sense. I lost pride and dignity and about 10% of my body weight. I lost my appetite. I lost my faith. I lost my ability to trust. I grieved. I was in so much pain that I wanted to die only because then at least the unbelievable, relentless emotional agony would stop and I would find some peace. I picked up smoking again like I hadn't since the bad old days of overnighters in the office in pencil skirts and skyscraper heels. A pack a day of cancer sticks. It went for the next few months, my ironic lifeline to a life which seemed bleak.

I lost time.

In June, I started coming back to life.

In July, there was Morton's Model. Along with all the other things I had lost, I had apparently also lost my moral compass and any sense of inhibition. I merrily joined the rest of you immoral arseholes and found some absolution.

In July, there was also the discovery of the Rabbit (who is still running, but who has been superseded by others) and the horror of the Consolation Prize, the shock of which made me almost grateful to return to Oz.

In July, I realized that I started finding myself again.

In August, there was Captain Starlight, built in the best of Spartan tradition. I swear, that man is the finest fleshly engineering, direct from God’s garden of earthly delights. Eight-pack, gorgeous smile and thigh muscles that make me want to sink my teeth into him even when he’s just doing mundane things like, oh, I don't know, breathing. He continued the lesson that Morton’s Model had begun, that beauty had a power all of its own. He helped me heal the same way that peeling off the dead skin helps burn victims heal; painful, but ultimately effective. He also taught me that I was still in relationship withdrawal. Sorry, Starlight. Didn't mean to get my emo all over your nice clean shirt.

Also in August, I ran the City to Surf. Aside from looking like an absolute noob as I gasped my way to the finish line in the final sprint, I think I acquitted myself pretty well, considering that my arduous training in the months before had been to sit on the couch and think "Maybe I should go for a run." Was seriously proud of myself until I found out that Captain. Starlight runs those distances routinely. And completes them in half the time. And looks prettier than me doing it too. Damnit.

In October, there was LabradorBoy. Sweet, laid-back LabradorBoy, who had the finest hair I've ever run my hands through, horses, the world's best bathtub, two degrees, an album and what sounded suspiciously like a trust fund. LabradorBoy called me 'kitten', brought me lunch, had the loveliest crooked mouth and two false front teeth because the real ones had been knocked out in a pillow fight when he was a kid. He stroked my hair and told me I was adorable and amusing and made me feel safe. LabradorBoy taught me that I'm not the person I always believed I was when I was with Fatarse. And he showed me that I could be happy with someone – just not now. So thank you, LabradorBoy. Sorry about dumping you. but really, it's not you, it's me. If it's any consolation, I still miss you.

In November, I managed to guess, lie and pray my way through into my final year by passing my exams, even though I was convinced I didn't. I also found some direction. Where that will take me, I don't know. Perhaps 'direction' is misleading. 'Waving compass needle' is possibly more accurate.

And now it's a new year. It can only get better from this point on, I think. I hope. I think I'm finding myself again. And I think I like who that person is.

Happy New Year, everyone.