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That's when it occurred to me, in my pity party of one, that while we can plan and perfectly orchestrate our lives, at the end of the day, there are times when we simply have to grab out floaties and hold on for dear life. Since I pride myself on "being the author of my own life" and "dictating life on my terms," it's always humbling to find yourself up *%$# creek without a paddle.

For the first time in my life, I had nothing: no answers, no brilliant responses or eloquent explanations. I didn't know up from down, left from right, nor here nor there. I sat on my couch and cried. I cried for a friend I'll never see again; I cried for fear of my life's ambiguity; I cried for finally closing a chapter in my life's longest love affair; I cried for realizing I can't control every aspect of my life nor have everything figured our by 26 and then bawled even harder at the thought of just how much I was loved by the Looney Toons I call family.

Then, as soon as it came, it was gone. I sat in silence on my couch and, when the last tear drop had rolled down my face, I realized I had just weathered a huge life storm and I was going to live. That doesn't mean things were fixed, hearts weren't still bruised and my problems had miraculously evaporated; it meant, in spite of them, I knew I would be okay.