Forgive me if I rambled. The last couple of days have been so crazy I might have posted the exact same thing had I just smashed my head on my keyboard.
There are a lot of things that I would like to change if I could. I’d probably go back and choose to stay in college instead of moving away after high school. And I do wish I’d attended a lot of the classes I missed after I did finally move back home because I was either a) out drinking b) in sleeping or c) out drinking. If I could build a time machine and go back and forego attending the party on that fateful day I met my ex I think I might. Not because he’s a bad person or because I wish I’d never met him, but because a lot of decisions I made in that relationship still affect me to this day. Generally I like to leave a relationship behind after it ends instead of having that daily/weekly reminder of how much I was unbelievably deficient in the foresight to predict disaster, like a bad haircut that can never be grown out, or that show Cashmere Mafia (it really is as bad as everyone says it is).
Of course I realize that I ultimately made those decisions. I know that I had to free will to choose to do things like, say, hypothetically, date a guy in high school who picked strawberries in the fields of Watsonville and had serious mental problems -- in and out of rehab and therapy — who dated me to feel closer to someone who was normal and “good” believing proximity to normalcy meant he too would become normal until he was committed -- again— to the loony bin in Aptos. Or, for arguments sake, say, I chose to stumble through a dark cobblestone alley in heels fracturing my second metatarsal rendering heels an impossibility to this very day. I would take absolute responsibility for such things.
I also chose to move to Seattle and now I’m stuck here. I’m relegated to this extremely cold and rainy climate, which is hopelessly devoid of decent men, and surrounded by things I could really do without (e.g. mountains, sports arenas, the homeless). I liked it at first and even took comfort in the darkness of the days as it made me feel like I wasn’t missing out on anything better because I was stuck at work. But, now, I’m whiter than anyone ever thought could be possible and I’m cold. I’m cold and it never gets warm. EVER. You might think I was exaggerating but you would be wrong. I think the hottest it ever got in 2007 hovered somewhere around 80 degrees. This happened on only a few scattered days and the rest of the time it was cold.
I crave warmth, and not the kind I feel because I’m perched atop a heater vent with a blanket over me, but the kind found only in real sunlight.
I am not happy.
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