"The things you do for love are gonna come back to you one by one."

As I was packing up my bags to return to NYC tomorrow, I had one of those "shit-just-got-real" moments, and, wow, can reality be dark.

I couldn't figure out what clothes should stay and which should come back to school...after all, thanks to global warming, I didn't wear any of the bulky, woolen, winter attire until my last 3 days in town. But, the weather's beginning to turn towards the arctic. And, my geographic location is about to change as well...even with the nifty little WeatherBug app on my laptop, there's no real way for me to gauge what clothes are the most comfortable for New York without actually being there. That got me thinking, and I realized that every casual observation I've made recently is one big metaphor for life right now--particularly all the life changes I've decided to grab by the horns.

Life changes a lot, and most times it's totally unexpected and unwarranted. You pack sweaters, and life gives you sun. You come dressed in a bikini, and life decides to dump a foot of snow on your head.

The biggest change I've been working on internalizing is the fact that my last serious relationship blew up in my face...Actually, I didn't even realize it was a ticking time bomb until I was covered in the leftover gunpowder and standing in a crater.

I was living life in a t-shirt while reality was busy spitting out freezing rain, and eventually, I became so frost-bitten and numb that I no longer realized how cold it was and that I'd probably be better off wearing a parka.
But, sometimes, when you put on the parka, you first have to shed the freezing, water-logged t-shirt to prevent soaking through your only source of warmth. In order to change, something has to...well, change.

For me, that change was letting go of some of the sentimental things that were holding me back...my soaking wet t-shirts.

As a gift, I was given a beautiful sapphire ring. I wore that damn ring every single day for nearly three years. Somedays, when times were rough, I might take it off and put it in my pocket, but I guarantee, by the end of those days, it was back on my finger and all was right with the world.
But, when things were over, I tried to return the ring, and he said no--it was a gift, and what it stands for wouldn't ever change. When I felt sad or angry that life had thrown me yet another curveball, I'd put that ring back on as a source of comfort--it seemed to tell me that while a lot of things were now different, one thing still remained the same: the little blue stone on my middle finger was still there.

It slowly became my parka in a freezing rain storm... However, I never took off that wet t-shirt, and sure enough, the water bled through, and the parka became wet, heavy, and not all that warm anymore. When something that was supposed to be a comfort became uncomfortable, I knew it was time to make the change-- my life was different, so my finger should be too.

While I sit here and write, my hands feel naked and lonely. Sometimes I wish I had that ring for no reason other than to look at it and reminisce about the good things it did and stood for.
However, I'm warm. When it's 62 and sunny, I can pull all of those t-shirts out of the dryer and wear them with a good pair of skinny jeans, but if it's going to rain and sleet, I need a warm, dry jacket.

But, the best thing about weather is, it's a lot like life-- it changes. A lot. And most of the time, that change is all for the better.