Making plans to return home for Christmas involves finally tying up loose ends I left in Montgomery years ago.
There is a steamer trunk in Rosemary's attic, a bookshelf of books at Robin & Joe's, and I left my grandmother's writing desk with a friend I've since cut out of my life like a cancer. I thought I had coordinated for someone to pick up the desk and move it after I moved (I don't know how many of you have been suddenly hired to work on-location for political campaigns, but you just sort of throw things in your car and go), but apparently it was left behind.
There was also a mobile of origami goldfish my Nana made for me, an antique terrarium, a purple lamp I'm fond of, a green clock I adore, and a few paintings and mirrors. I'm almost certain those things have been trashed, but really all I want is the desk.
Since my attempt to reach her was unsuccessful, I reached out to a friend and asked if he would inquire about it. He too has cut contact. I asked another friend... she too would prefer not to have to speak to her if it could be avoided.
This is a girl I tried countless times to pull from the ashes. Some people go through life in perpetual need of being rescued.
But this girl is a toxic vortex. The narrative of her life is riddled with self-inflicted bullet holes and countless burned bridges, but she always manages to consider herself a victim.
I've thought long and hard about all the good choices I've made in my life that have put me where I am. I made bad choices, too—and I paid for them in spades.
But the most important choice I made was to stop surrounding myself with bad influences. Where I used to gravitate toward and attempt to fix, I now I step away from those who are complacent, complaining, self-important, life-long victims.
Surround yourself with people who make you want to be better. People who are creative, motivating, joyful, and—most importantly—who hold you accountable when you're being less than you should be.
Everything after that is cake.