Getting to be that time...

I'll be home in less than two weeks. My original plan was to write in here more often, plotting my course along my brain as I moved 3,000 miles across the country and lived on my own, albeit temporarily, for the first time in my life. Alas, it seems I was too busy living said life to update this blog. I'd actually written something one night when I was pretty drunk, posted it, and then took it down out of respect to the subject of the rant and partially because of remorse for the language I used.

It's been an up-and-down trip, I'm not going to lie; I really did expect this whole experience to go differently than it has. Girl-wise, work-wise, adventure-wise...it all seemed to unravel pretty quickly. Sure, I've had some good times and met some great people (even some from Boston who will be back in the area when I am! I'm so excited for that!) but there were some things I wanted to do that won't get done:

1) I will not have found the woman of my dreams. I thought I had her but it was a mirage and I am that much more beaten down because of it, sad to say.

2) I won't get to see Los Angeles. Weekends have been uber-filled and I don't think it's going to happen this time around. Funny enough, though, a trip from Boston to LA no longer seems like a long-distance ordeal now that I've lived here.

3) I won't get to take a short, one-hour flight to Vegas. Thankfully I went in June so I'm not heartbroken; plus, I went to Reno and it's just like Vegas...only filthier.

4) I expected to come to work and be a conquering hero to this group. That is difficult when I wasn't given access to their systems, they don't know any of mine (even though we had training classes to teach them since WE bought THEM), and I'm caught up in the red tape of an IT group that just doesn't "get it" and a VP whose one love in life seems to be burying his staff in unnecessary paperwork and screen prints which diverts them from, oh, actually doing their jobs.

Anyway, I'll be home in less than two weeks. It'll be an adjustment to the cold, the time difference, and the expenses. I can't tell you how cool it is to not only have zero expenses out here but also get paid extra money just for being in California. It's pretty badass; I've been able to pay off a chunk of my student loans and the plan is now to stick around Wakefield until the spring and then find an apartment close to work. I'm sick of paying for parking on top of the T fares. I've also been losing weight by living on my own and therefore cooking for myself; I'd like to keep doing that.

I have more to write, but I want to take this time to type out something I wrote last night in bed. "The girl who was but isn't" stayed over here last night (she does that on occasion and there's nothing romantic or physical about it, much to my chagrin) and the futility of the whole thing hit me like a tidal wave. I am constantly fighting for the things that I want, even if they aren't what is best for me. I bend over backward for this girl who doesn't want me; I argue with a VP who only sees his way; I am loyal to a myriad of people who leave me to be the sole cheerleader on my behalf. So I got up, scribbled a bunch of stuff into my notebook (I only do free-writes; otherwise I manage to neuter the entire piece during the editing process), and went back to bed; I was still sad but at least my brain had quieted.

So here it is. I call it Uppercut.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am always fighting
for what I love
for what I believe in
and for those who believe in me.

I am always fighting
against what I know to be true
when I don't want to believe it
because believing means admitting you've failed
admitting you're just not worth it
if not to yourself, then to others

I am always fighting
to spend less time in my head
too much time in there
dissecting every piece
tearing everything apart
soaking them with tears and self-pity
pity for my own damaged thinking
and the pity she feels for me
that part, I'm certainly NOT imagining

I am always fighting
my instincts
hoping it can be different
praying it will be different
from an atheist to a zealot
in one easy step
And with the next step, off the ledge

I am always fighting
to hold on to my sanity
in a world that is always trying to take it
a world where the time is never right
the pieces never fit
I've either missed the train
or I've been hit head on by it
two objects, full of steam
the steam of power, sweat, blood
against that of delusion and misplaced hope

I am always fighting
not to have it end
like it always does
picking up the puzzle
straining out my heart
from the pathetic pool at my feet

I am always fighting
to convince myself of my worth
that I'm more than I think I am
but in the battle between brain and pity
it's me against the world
deep down, it is as it has always been
not good enough
never good enough

I am tired
the constant struggle to pick myself up
to be my only support
has left me as fragile as an eggshell
and twice as disposable
how many rounds
before I see I'm past my prime
still too scared to throw in the towel
some misguided optimism, perhaps

Battered, bloody, bruised
but not yet defeated
dizzy, struggling
but not yet knocked out

I can't watch anymore
stay down! stay down!
why bother propping yourself up
just in time to take one in the teeth?

Please, stay down
do it for my sake
let me be at peace