Because it’s not supposed to be easy.

Today was my one-year-visit-to-Nashville-a-versary.

I woke up excited this morning. Because so much of my life has changed in the past year. Many of my friends have welcomed new babies, others got married, several more engaged and even a few more made similar journeys to mine and moved somewhere new.

But then today was difficult. I miss my best friends, who live hundreds of miles away, specifically the one I hoped would move with me. I missed having people who understand that I sometimes overreact, but I’m harmless with my intentions. I missed Texas a little more than I ever expected I would.

I worked a double today. I made nothing that even resembled what I should have given the amount of hours I worked. Working in new atmospheres is difficult not only as one attempts to figure the ins and outs of their jobs, but also the people they work with. I used to think people were easy – everyone had a formula and once I discovered their formula, life with them was easier. I’ve since changed my opinion. People aren’t easy, and there’s so much that goes into a mood. So I spent the day kind of upset that I didn’t understand these people and didn’t feel they understood me. And I sulked.

Because this feels right in so many ways, but so much of it is hard. And I just want to hug my mom some days. Other days I want to hold my friends’ babies, and even more days I spend wondering why I don’t have their lives. Not because I prefer one or the other, I just wonder sometimes.

Which makes days like today less fun. And it feels right, but it scares the hell out of me.

And today was hard.

But then I thought about it, and what the hell else would make sense on the anniversary of the biggest life change I’ve ever made? Life is hard. Life proverbially knocks you down and breaks pint glasses all over you (that actually happened today). But then great things happen and it all makes sense.

It always, always makes sense.

A year ago I was dating a perfectly nice guy who I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t like more. He texted me in the cab from the airport, “you’ll probably find someone in Nashville you like a little more.” I haven’t yet, but I suppose he picked up on something I didn’t just yet.

I baked him cookies a few months later – heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies that I mailed to him. He broke up with me the next day – three days before Valentine’s Day. That wasn’t fun. It felt kind of like how I did earlier when I fell on ceramic tile with a pint glass in my hands.

And here I sit in Nashville, a year later. Cuts and bruises and all.

Because life isn’t easy. But it always makes sense.

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