2010. 2010. Sounds like a futuristic space movie to me. Really. I remember as a kid thinking of living in a new century one day. It scared the shit outta me. I couldn’t fathom it. And here we are—a whole decade into the new millennium. And, I realize that it truly is nothing but another day. Just like yesterday. Just like tomorrow. However, it’s felt different today. Maybe because I told myself it would be, maybe not. Not only is it a new year, but it is a new decade.
Let’s flash back to a decade ago, shall we?
The year is 2000. All the computers and electronics across the world failed and our whole economy and civilization turned to dust.
Oh, wait, that was the futuristic space movie shit the news media and zealots wanted us to prescribe to.
The year is 2000. We find a twenty-one year old Brandon returning from a night in the mountains with a few of his best college friends (who would quickly disappear four months later after he graduated college). It was his first night away with just friends, and he was feeling pretty grown up, although disappointed by the lame NYE they actually’d had. He wished he had just stayed at home or done something he hadn’t built up to be so wonderful in his head.
In a few months time, he would have done several interviews to be the youth pastor (using his new degree) for churches in the area and answered several interview questions inquiring if there were sexually impure sins that he needed to confess before taking the job. As much as he hated it, he lied in each one of those interviews and said, ‘No.’ Shortly, he decided he couldn’t live a lie in such a manner and pulled out of the positions for youth pastor, one of which was seeming very likely. Thus, he entered the world of social work instead.
The year is 2000. Ten years later, Brandon realized that he had spent exactly half of the decade going to ‘learn to be straight’ therapy, one to three times a week. He’s glad that didn’t work out so well.
The year is 2000. In three more years he would enter a two year relationship with an verbally and mentally abusive man that would over-take him and suffocate and terrorize him to the point he didn’t recognize who he was when he was finally able to break free.
The year is 2000. In six years, he would fall in love for the first time with a man he would only date for a few months. His first heartbreak—getting him ready for the real one to come a little over three years later.
The year is 2010. Brandon has gone from a terrified soon-to-be college graduate to a counselor, massage therapist, teacher, aspiring author. He has spent three of the past ten years in school, both getting his massage license and his masters.
The year is 2010. He went from knowing exactly who God is to having no idea. He has gone from knowing he was going to Hell to not fearing it in the slightest. He has gone from fresh skin to nearly a fourth of his body covered in ink. He has laughed more than he dreamed possible. He has cried more and harder than he ever knew he would.
The year is 2010. He is alone, but surrounded by amazing family and friends who are family. He has experienced the love of a lifetime—one he never dared to believe could be real.
The year is 2010. All the pictures of the past, good and bad, have just been flushed from his computer’s hard drive. Ready for fresh. For what is to come.
Today is January first, 2010. I am under no delusions that I don’t have tears in my future or that I won’t hurt over what is no longer. I still hope I may have the familiar hand in mine once again, but am fully aware that I probably won’t. I may never be that loved or happy again, but I am still here, and I am going to do my best to live again. I am going to get published, I am going on a date tomorrow, I am going to listen to Britney Spears again, I am going to spend time with my beautiful family, I am going to be more of the Brandon I used to be with my friends. I will morn what I’ve lost, but I will love what I have. 2000-2010 were the years for me to discover who I was and what is possible in this life. 2010-2020 are the years for me to truly take all I have learned about life and myself and no longer walk, but fly.