I began 2012 feeling out of sorts. We came home from a party in the dark. Left the house for dinner the next day, in the dark. Mostly about why my left ring finger was still naked. Seriously, though. I felt bad that we slept through January 1st.

As I sat backwards on the bus on the way the second party of the year, I vowed not to waste another day. By the end of that week, I’d written a few thousand words, and read three books.

Toward the end of January, I might have mentioned to my Dad and some friends that I was planning to propose to Sarge. Because of that trusty extra day in February. And because I love him. So much. That, too.

I originally thought I’d take him to the zoo, point out a ring around the neck of a very well-behaved penguin during the penguin parade. And I’d ask him amongst strangers and more penguins.

Then I thought I’d book a table at the Russian place where we had our first dinner date.

In the end, which was really the beginning, I opted for some pebbles and a candy ring. And by the grace of the angels and Sadie Hawkins, he said yes. And then we went back to the scene of our first coffee date, he got down on one knee, and I said yes. Again.

A few weeks after that, I submitted my Masters application, which was subsequently rejected. I believe for a very split second, I forgot the all-important Show, Don’t Tell. This mistake sent me into a darkened room for a while. I came out to go venue-shopping and to process what happened, I wrote this.

During the first flourishes of wedding planning, I missed my grandparents. I do every day, but this was a different kind of ache.

We found a venue, I found a dress. On the day Dad and Anne saw both of these, Dad said he had cancer. My worst nightmare. Really. I had no words for awhile. And then I found these.

Our engagement party also saw the beginning of Dad’s treatment. We burned things to celebrate both. And part of that treatment involved writing our invitations. Thank you, Daddy.

Other stuff happened. I visited a friend I hadn’t seen in ages, I became the cat’s Aunty, the contract ended on a job I loved and found another one I loved not so much. And I contemplated a career-change. Only to realise again, I can only do what my heart says.

I prayed to all my good ghosts this year. Really hard. And to be honest, not all of those prayers were answered. But the best ones were. My Dad is well again. And Sarge kindly accepted my proposal.  Everything else leaves room for better things.

As for next year, I know where I’m going and who’ll be with me for the next adventures.

And I can’t wait.

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