The year shit went wrong, but I tried to find the right
August 30, 2016: The day my dad died.
September 5, 2016: The day I eulogized my dad.
September 9, 2016: The day I tried to return to work with a positive attitude, but was quickly proven that life’s not that easy.
September 16, 2016: The day when, tear-streaked and screaming on a street of a Boston suburb, I should’ve known shit was going wrong.
September 28, 2016: The day I saw Arrival for the first time, and began to hope that art could heal me.
October 22, 2016: The day I saw Falsettos for the first time, and knew that in the darkest times, art was all I had.
November 2, 2016: The day I found my voice at work again, and began to gain some hope.
November 8, 2016: The day I lost hope.
November 9, 2016: The day the darkest times began.
November 13, 2016: The day when, crying on the couch with my mother, I felt I had no grip on everything in my life.
November 19, 2016: The day when, gallivanting through London, I finally thought I had fixed things.
November 21, 2016: The day I lost grip once again — or realized I had never regained it at all.
November 26, 2016: The day my relationship ended.
November 27, 2016: The day when, at 3 AM, I heaved with sobs watching Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life, and wondered if I would ever again have the grip I so desperately needed.
December 30, 2016: The day I hurt my best friend.
January 2, 2017: The day my best friend hurt me.
January 8, 2017: The day I last saw my best friend, when we couldn’t even speak to each other. The day The Color Purple closed, and with it took a bit of my heart. The day I shared a room with Hillary Clinton and wept for what we were about to endure.
January 13, 2017: The day my sister in life found out he had cancer. Again.
January 16, 2017: The day I decided to move to Los Angeles.
January 20, 2017: The day I couldn’t bear to look at Twitter for fear of puking.
February 3, 2017: The day my New York family and I found ourselves in Palm Springs, and I never wanted to go back east.
February 17, 2017: The day my sister in life found out he didn’t have cancer. Thank God.
February 26, 2017: The day Viola Davis won an Oscar. (Finally!)
February 27, 2017: The day I found out I would be moving to Los Angeles officially.
March 11, 2017: The day I saw my high school girlfriend get married.
March 17, 2017: The day I found out I’d be going to RuPaul’s Drag Con.
April 23, 2017: The day my laptop got stolen. Also the day I did not get to see Katherine Heigl’s Unforgettable.
April 24, 2017: The day my laptop got replaced, and I no longer cared about Katherine Heigl’s Unforgettable.
April 29, 2017: The day I saw the power of drag, and fell in love with something I’d already been in love with for some time.
May 26, 2017: The day I said goodbye to my New York office.
May 27, 2017: The day I said goodbye to my New York friends.
May 28, 2017: The day I said goodbye to my New York apartment.
May 31, 2017: The day I said goodbye to New York.
June 18, 2017: The day I ran away from everyone because I didn’t know how I would be on my first Father’s Day after my dad’s death.
July 7, 2017: The day I finally got my Los Angeles apartment in order, and felt at home again.
July 15, 2017: The day I talked to the man I loved for the first time in half a year, and finally started to heal.
July 17, 2017: The day I felt like my move was a mistake.
July 28, 2017: The day I knew my move wasn’t a mistake.
August 16, 2017: The day I felt on top of the world, like nothing could stop me.
August 17, 2017: The day I lost my job.
August 23, 2017: The day I will go to New York to see friends I haven’t in months — to see the family I’ve been missing even as I’ve come to embrace my new family in Los Angeles.
August 24, 2017: The day that would have been my dad’s 64th birthday.
August 30, 2017: The day that will be the one-year anniversary of my dad’s death.
August 31, 2017: The day the year shit went wrong finally ends — and a new year begins.
September 1, 2017: The day that, if I have anything to say about it, shit will start going right.
