THIN CRUST PIZZA + MOSCATO

After the the boxes were unpacked, the dishes were carefully put in cabinets and the first carton of milk had been placed in the door of the fridge, he left. We dragged it out, man. We really did. Well, irony and life did. A missed flight led to another cancelled flight and then a defeated return up two flights of stairs to my brand new apartment. A defeated return that was actually the shell casing for a hidden sense of relief.

I wasn't alone quite yet. I had a little bit more time. A little bit more of "us", and I didn't have to rush right into that singular "me" situation that had been hanging over my head.

But then that night was over and American Airlines got its you-know-what together, and he left. He was gone. Now, I don't mean to make "him" this super daunting scary figure. He's not. "He" honestly could have been anyone. My mom, my best friend, my brother....anyone who's laughter I would recognize with my eyes closed. Anyone who was capable of reading my facial expression and knowing when to ask, "what's wrong?".

In the past few years of moves and life changes, I have learned to make home wherever my people are. Wherever there is love, familiarity and a coffeemaker, that is home.

But graduation, getting a job and then relocating for it was happening. Actually, it happened. It's happened, and it's my present. I am blessed. I am so blessed. But for the first time in twenty one years, I am alone.

I live in a two-bedroom apartment with furniture and groceries, and it's just mine. I get to do what makes me happy for a living in a state I had never been to before April.

Alone. A concept I have always taken to mean "not dating someone"...until now, as I find myself actually alone. New definition: "Make a home where no one but you lives. Being in a city where you actually know no one."

Alone.

I cried about it, but not for very long. I thought about it, but not too deeply.

It simply was. I simply was. Alone.

So, I poured myself a glass of moscato and folded some towels while watching Game of Thrones. When you find yourself with no other option, I think the best thing to do is avoid throwing a pity party and simply create a situation that appeals most to your senses.

The next day, I made breakfast and read a chapter of my book.

The day after that, I realized there is a farmer's market nearby. I didn't go because it started raining, but I wrote it down in my planner for next week. Then, I slid into my coworker's DMs to see when her off days are. She's sweet.

You have to seek the good stuff. You have to decide that you'd rather have a glitter party than a pity party. I MEAN IT.

And while I've got you here...I think it's the coolest thing ever to drop your comfort zone in pursuit of your dreams.

I think it's brave to walk off and be on your own for a while.

I think it's cool that there could be an opportunity that makes your heart swell enough to be worth leaving the things, places and people who know your name and heart.

I think that's brave. I think you're brave,

I think not having all of the answers, but knowing that you've just got to run and try is stronger than any drug around.

You have to try. You have to fight. You have to go. Okay, you don't have to....but you should. You really should. Time is still going whether you do or don't.

I've only been alone in my new place for a week, but I've managed to learn a couple things.

It's okay to be by yourself. There is magic in being by yourself. There is a confidence that comes from being by yourself. We need each other, but you've never needed someone to appreciate and understand you more than you have needed yourself to appreciate and understand you. And when it's quiet and the sun is setting and you're in your bed with no plans and no one to go with you even if you had some, you have no choice but to find that appreciation and understanding.

I have learned that exploring without an adventure buddy will not kill you.

I have learned that I am a force. I'm going to say it again...I am a force. Now, you say it. You are a force

I have learned that eating healthy feels better (not always on the first try...keep trying), laughter sounds just as rich and satisfying when there is no one else to hear it and there is a fullness in knowing that your space is yours. I loved living with my best friend in college. I loved bombarding into her room to show her dumb YouTube videos, knowing there was always someone down to hop in the car to get Mexican food and never having to leave my room for advice. I loved that. I cried when it hit me that it wasn't going to be a thing anymore.

But I think I am starting to love this living on my own thing. I like the responsibility. I like the time to sit with myself. To be honest, I like freely walking to the fridge in my underwear to get juice. But, mostly, I like this phase. I like this season, and I think that's the point I wanted to push in all these words.

Your life is so precious. It's so precious, and it's so full of change. While change and I have feuded in the past, I invited him over for thin crust oven pizza and reality shows last night. I think we are becoming friends.

You see, I want to be present. I want to be present in each season. I want to be the person who looks at each coming moment with ease because she's so wrapped up in the belly laughs and bad jokes of her present. I haven't perfected the craft, but my hands are working. More importantly, I truly believe that God's hands are working.

I live alone, but I refuse to be lonely. I refuse to be anything less than full. (That was my word of 2016..."Full".)

I am in this season, and I am falling for it. Hard. Like weak knees, big smiles and all.

I want you to fall in love, babe. I want you to fall in love with wherever you are and be present. So present that you have no room to be afraid of what's to come. And boo, if you're thinking of throwing it all down to chase your passion with all you've got...I think you should do it. I really do.

Love your seasons something fierce, and I bet you'll find that same kind of love for your own heart.

With Love & Glitter,

Morgan