This weekend offically marked the end of a year of grieving, with one large celebration in honor of my friend's husband who died last year in the WTC.

In a large ballroom filled with hundreds of people, I felt like we all finally reached this point that I thought would never arrive. The worst part of the tragedy was behind us and it feels like we all are now officially allowed to start our new lives.

We did that, with a long day and evening of group drinking on Saturday. We had a hug fest, hugging each other and at points forming a circle for group hugs. Hugs are good. Apparently, I am not open to the hug, or so I was told, so I'm working on that. Trying to be more hugable. Later we formed circles for everyone to take turns doing silly dance moves as the group cheered that person on.

Sunday, we watched Requiem for a Dream, which launched about 1000 demons for all of us. It made me feel awful about my life and the things I've done; it made me feel particularly empty about having no one to share my life with. It made me feel like I needed a hug.

As much as I didn't want to come back to Manhattan, it gets harder and harder each weekend that I spend outside of this town, I returned via train as the rain pelted the speeding windows.

Tomorrow is a new day. I'm looking forward to it and the opportunity it brings for me to start over and work becoming a better and more complete person.

That's the great thing about new days, you know. I think I'll give someone a hug tomorrow.

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