2012 was a year of big beginnings.
2012 was the year when I bought my first car.
2012 was the year I went on my first work trip.
2012 was the year I started an anonymous blog with my writing partner where we pledged to stay single for an entire year and chronicle the experience bi-weekly in alternating blog posts we would take turns authoring.
2012 was the year of my first serious health scare, which luckily turned out to only be pre-cancer and easily treated, but really had me going for a minute there.
2012 was the year of my first solo vacation (I probably shouldn’t have picked one of the most romantic destinations on the planet, but not all post-breakup decisions are the smartest and at least I didn’t get bangs).
2012 was the year I tried surfing, snorkeling, and parasailing for the first time.
2012 was the first year I invited a small group of friends to my family’s cabin for the weekend, and thus an annual tradition was born.
2012 was the year I met my friend Josh, and over the last 10 years our friendship would take us to Vancouver, Kamloops, Edmonton, London, Dublin, Glasgow, Stockholm, Rome, Venice, Ibiza, Barcelona, Amsterdam, to the top of The Chief, to the bottom of my heart, and a million other places I’m probably forgetting. And now he’s off on a journey without me from which he’ll never return and that I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
People say you don’t know you’re living the good ol’ days until they’ve passed you by, but for me that wasn’t true.
2012 was one of those years that I would choose to go back and re-live exactly the same if I could. It was bitter. But it was sweet.
2012
