Upon the turning of the thirty

Have you ever really listened to "Total Eclipse of the Heart"? Jaysus. It's heartbreaking. I downloaded it from Itunes as part of my 30th Playlist, but Chuck the DJ refused to play it. At one point I screamed at him to stop playing jams, Please, Chuck, I may lose the use of my limbs, and he said No. I took this to mean that Chuck loved me, but he did not. It occurs to me now that Chuck may have actually wanted me to die of dancing. Whatever. Now I get to listen to 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' while alone, at home, hearing my downstairs neighbor play the rock, Downstairs Neighbor of the Ambiguous Flirtation, and literally: could life be more sparkly and complex?
I forgot to mention some of the additional information, and I invite you to rank the relavance as you see fit: I had the best therapy session ever with one of my more precious clients, and then she ran away from home. I looked at 100s of pictures of myself from my birthday and it turns out that the flash made my H & M shirt see-thru. These same pictures force me to navigate the nebulous space between 'heifer with facial Down's Syndrome' and 'my God I am a pretty pretty princess.' My therapy and general recovery from Bad Childhood means that I am like a 4 year old in terms of genuine self appraisal, but also I am 30, and there are men all over this city and I don't know what I am supposed to do. I hear about child abuse all day, and sexual terror, and pain, and everyday is a diamond in its brilliance, fascination, and rock solid ability to cut me up. I have been given hope, and magic, and it's terrifying. I lived to 30, motherfuckers. I want to eat life like the amazing tofu lasagna my roommate gifted me. I want to attack my neighbor and approximate the adolescence I wanted. If I could download songs, which I can't, I would download Of Montreal's "Everyday Feels Like Sunday." And then I would make you cry, because that's life, my precious babies.
Let me tell you a bit about the great session I had with My Girl. At one point she looked me dead in the eye and said, "Even though there are all these people around me that love me, they say they love me, I just can't feel it. I feel alone even when there are all these people around. Maybe I'm not saying it right. Do you know what I mean?" And my heart broke, yet again. What if we could breathe love? I would have blown her away.
Here's what I suspect, with excitement and trepidation: I will be okay in my 30s. There is a spark of the pain and loveliness of life in me and it will grow until I die.