Is there something I forgot to realize? Something I forgot to see? I’m at that point where a long-awaited decision is necessary, and I know now that there will never be a correct answer. See, the thing is, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. At 25, I was supposed to be successful and independent, instead, I am the extreme opposite. Maybe I should be happy that time travels by the speed of light and ages me; the less time left, the better. Time. I have too much of it at my chewed off fingertips. I’m remembering nights back in Yellowstone when my roommates where nowhere to be found and I was finally granted the cherished gift of privacy. Cool September nights had finally begun to settle in, and I would sit in the front room/kitchen/Carrie’s bedroom with the window open permitting the brilliantly refreshing mountain air to cleanse room 201. The chill from autumn thrilled me, and while I left the window open all night, I also kept the heater on. The resident coordinator, Jo, later complained at me for this act of “wasting energy”. But those were some of the most relaxing and invigorating nights I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. Just me, my journal, and the ever-present sound of the rushing river whose path followed right outside the ancient confinements of the Bunk House. So what am I going to do with myself now? I can no longer be held back for I have run out of time, but how truly powerful is fear that I would put off my future because of codependency and addiction? Have I been creating my own misery, and if so, how do I stop? On this day, a goal has been met, but this accomplishment has only led to complications.
July 8, 2002