I was thinking about this at 4pm while I was laying on the sofa, still in my mint green snowflake pajamas, and watching "Mad Men" while drinking Diet Coke out of a 2 liter bottle. The shades were drawn, I'm sure the apartment smelled like a truck stop, and I had just decided to cease living. It was then I realized I was being a total prat, and after a phone call with a friend, I opened my shades, put on some freakin' clothing, and went outside. I got about a block before a homeless person started screaming at me, but it felt good to be out in the open, living my life.
I passed another homeless person who was muttering to herself, so I sort of propped myself up against the same building and muttered to myself as I figured out what I wanted to do that day. It's a Friday. Everyone I know was out drinking, carousing, being social and hearty and merry and bright. And all I wanted to do was buy a personal pizza, go home, and rent a movie. I started to chastise myself. I said out loud, "Melissa, FIRST OF ALL NO ONE RENTS MOVIES ANY MORE. And, go out and DO something. Don't stay home AGAIN." But you know what? That is how I was choosing to live. That was what would lift me up and soothe my soul. And I really love pizza, damnit.
I opened an account at a run-down Blockbuster. The boy helping me had a fierce lisp and gave me a 3 page contract to sign. When I made a joke, asking him if it was the DMV he glared at me and asked to see my license. Which only made me giggle from the irony. Then I went home.
I cleaned. I made my personal pan pizza. I put on a movie that I loved, "Under The Tuscan Sun," and settled in to start living.
I had forgotten what a gorgeous movie it was. And I had almost forgotten that I had my honeymoon in Positano, where half of the movie takes place. I squealed with every epic sweep of scenery and delighted in the candy colored houses dotting the cliff sides. It brought back so many wonderful memories of Brett...and I wasn't sad.
AND THEN. The main character had the best line: "What are four walls, anyway? They are what they contain. The house protects the dreamer. Unthinkably good things can happen, even late in the game. It's such a surprise." It dawned on me then that my sad little apartment was starting to feel like home. These four walls held a dreamer- albeit a dreamer who spends most of her time in pajamas eating pizza and breaking things. But...it had become home. I then stood up, (in different pajamas...I changed clothes, I'm not terribly pathetic,) and I LITERALLY danced all around the living room. Whooping, laughing, crying...and then my 19 year old neighbor pounded the wall and I danced quietly. And whooped silently. (Try it, it sounds ridiculous.) I didn't feel like I was lacking tonight. I was living. And celebrating.
I also hadn't broken anything around here in the last 24 hours. And my pizza was so, sooo good.