So life has just been…. BLEH for me.
Where do I start?
When I was younger I had my life planned. I was gonna be someone. I was gonna be a famous writer. I’d have adventures just like the kids in The Mixed Up Files or The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. I breathed writing. Poetry, Short Stories, Epics…You name it, I wrote it. I was happy every single day of my life and then I wasn’t anymore. They say 1 in 3 girls is a victim of sexual abuse. You don’t take those stats in as a child, because monsters and tragedy were things you read about in story books. Women always speak about the strength they have now, share their battle scars, talk about how GOD had this happen for a reason. No one ever talks about the darkness, the stigma, the sacrifice. As an eight year old, I had no sense of sacrifice, no idea how life can change in an instant. I knew that every time he touched me, I lost a bit of myself. It took such a long time to be able to look myself in the mirror, even now I sometimes see a fleeting glimpse of the girl I used to be; That determined dreamer who never stopped smiling. I used to always wonder where/who I’d be. I know I wanted to be a writer, but I could have been a doctor or a lawyer, I could have gotten married or still believe there was a God. Well…that last part isn’t true. Growing up I’d always had a penchant for Science, so I’d probably still have been an atheist, but it might have taken me longer to get there.
The stories are true about difficulty being intimate after suffering abuse, even if it happen years ago. That’s what makes relationships so hard. They all say, “I totally get it”, “Your virtue is my privilege” and all that jazz. Until it isn’t enough and well, what is it they say? Boys will be boys. In all my insecurities, awkwardness, and sexual ineptitude, I manged to fall in love. I’ve dated before, but nothing compared. It was everything you want a relationship to be. It was passion, it was electric, thought-provoking, time consuming, butterflies, and a suffocating amount of romance. We brought out the best in each other. He even reminded me that that happy go lucky girl was still inside me, begging to get out. He knew what to say, when to say it and how to say it. He made life worth living. Everything was perfect, until it wasn’t. My grades were slipping, the distance started getting to him and he sought love elsewhere. We became people we despised. Now he’s married with children living the life he’d always dreamed.
And where am I? Funny you should ask. I quit my job not too long ago. It wasn’t a real job, it was a resume filler. Something for me to do, while I let life pass me by. I even tried to get back into the dating scene. Even stepped out of my comfort zone and asked a guy out on a date. It blew up in my face almost immediately, but I conquered a personal goal. One step closer to becoming some semblance of that girl I used to know. I got a tattoo that says, “No regrets” ironically, because I spend days regretting countless decisions I’ve made that got me to this point. And now I’m stuck. I have no job prospects, no drive, no passion, no spirit. So, I’ve decided to take myself on a journey of discovery as cliche as that sounds. The reason I quit my job was to find my bliss, (also my boss was a total See you next Tuesday kinda gal). I can’t go on another day as a lifeless sap waiting for something to happen like finding a golden ticket in a wrapper or winning two tickets for a boat trip that’ll change my life forever. Maybe one day I will write that book, but right now, I just wanna be happy. I wanna be anywhere but here.