I vaguely remember the first time I rode on a train. My mother had decided we were going to visit relatives in Bomeek. I remember I didn?t sit and watch the landscape race by at a blistering pace like I am doing now, but I was such a child back then. I do remember skipping down the aisle between the endless rows of seats. I remember the boy I had met on the train.

Christopher. I remember his name was Christopher, but he insisted I called him Chris. The only real thing I remember about Christopher was that we played together on the train and he introduced me to the wonders of putty. In fact, he gave me my first red plastic egg filled with this pink putty. He taught me that, besides being able to mold the putty, I could imprint the ink from a newspaper onto the putty. I did that for months after learning the little trick from Christopher. It had become my obsession for a time.

I didn?t have any putty with me to imprint newspaper ink on during this trip, but I did have my other distractions. A phone to fiddle with, a book that desperately needed to be read, and a hardly used journal were among some of the items. I wasn?t that kid anymore who imprinted putty for the sake of fun and distraction. I was an adult trying to find my place.

For some reason, this train trip keeps bringing my mind back to Christopher. I hardly knew him and I hardly remembered him until I found a picture one day. I had been a teen then and I was helping my mother to clean out boxes. I remember seeing this boy holding a dog up. He had brown hair like mine and bowl cut, but his eyes were crystal blue. He didn?t smile in his picture. He seemed more?anxious, surprised or even annoyed with having to take a picture in the first place. Who knew? I didn?t and I wasn?t going to dwell on it. I asked my mother about who the older boy was because I knew we had family I had never met. That?s when she reminded about the train trip and Christopher. I asked her what happened to him and she said that we simply stopped talking one day.

As I sit here thinking about the past and what my future could be, I wonder if that moment to remember Christopher or even the encounter with him was a sign of my life. People coming and going, remembering and letting go. The simplicity of just not being there anymore.

I know with my family I have been the one to let go. I have been the one to not be there now. But I know this needed to be done. I needed to go and find who I am and where I want to be. How can I know what world fits me when I don?t know the world to begin with. My world, the world of my family and those in my hometown, that?s what I know and I needed something more.

Besides, I needed space for this stifling affliction I have. My family couldn?t really help me and I couldn?t tell them that it was making me feel so much worse. Maybe with a new town, new people, and more resources I might finally have some peace of mind and body. I just have to remind myself to be strong, be brave, and I can get through anything.

Ever since I decided to leave home to become a nanny for Hilda and her son I haven?t slept very well at all. I?m nervous and feel anxiety at times. I have to remember to breathe and think about what makes me so anxious about the move.

Is it that I?m leaving home? Of course. Is it that I?ll be working with a new family and child? Absolutely. Is it that I will be on my own for the first time and it?s thrilling yet so terrifying? One hundred percent accurate. Am I scared about failing? Yes.

I know Hilda thinks the world of me since we met back home during her visit. I?m confident that I can work with her child. I?m certain I will be able to find a place I can afford and I?m perfectly fine staying at some hotel room until I find the right place. Hilda offered me a room at her estate, but I really need to separate my personal and work lives. I get the sense she would have me with her son all day and night if I lived there, and I?ve made it a priority not to live where my clients live.

I?ll miss my mom. I know she?ll miss me. But she knows I need to do this for my own sake rather any anyone else?s. She knows I need to find what I feel I?m lacking. She understands, but I know she?ll worry. Besides, it gives me a chance to fully realize how appreciative I am of her.

I?m tired of this worry and anxiousness. I?m tired of being tired. I?m not close to arriving just yet, so I should try to take another light nap. I don?t know that it?ll help and I don?t trust myself with sleep amongst all these strangers. I won?t force it. If I doze off then I do and I?ll deal with any consequences later. I just hope I wake up where I?m supposed to be.

I?m going to be arriving to town earlier than Hilda expects. I?m not going to tell her, but I won?t lie if she asks me. I simply won?t make any attempt at mentioning my plans.

I wanted time to get settled into a rented room and wander the town a little first. A rented room. It makes me sigh again, but it?s just a temporary thing until I find something reasonable that I can live in. I needed this change so badly I didn?t want to wait until I already had my chosen den of solitude.

Hilda plans to pay me well, which she would have if she wanted me to work for her. It?s not that I will just be the nanny, but I will essentially be homeschooling her child for a while. She wants him to learn certain things, I can teach him those things, and continue to help him be a child a while longer.

Hilda is nice enough to me, but she always wants to hug. I?m not a hugger. Hugging wasn?t something we did in my family. She?s going to have to learn that and she probably will since I?ve been told I can express my boundaries fairly well. I can even be standoffish if I want to be.

I suppose I could have established more rules with Hilda like about the hugging, but I didn?t want to nitpick. Mostly, I wanted to be clear of when I will be working. We also had to talk about overnight care.

Some nannies don?t mind working overnight care, but I?m not one of them. Most of the time, I won?t work overnights. It?s not because I value my evenings for some romantic interlude or late night partying, but I don?t want to run the chance of falling asleep while on the job. There?s too much risk that I won?t be there when someone wakes up or arrives home. Worse, what if I injure myself during one of my episodes and the kid finds me like that?

How horrible for the kid.

I won?t say I?ll never work an overnight shift because I have before and I have stayed awake all night. It?ll be rare for me to work overnight, but I know there can be circumstances where I might need to. It?s rare and I?ll try to give myself plenty of time to prepare. Besides, I know some tricks on how to keep myself awake.

Like during this soon to be ending train ride.

I?m feeling very exhausted. It?s probably because I haven?t had much sleep, but I didn?t feel comfortable sleeping too deeply while on a journey. It makes me less aware, my mind wanders, and often I end up wandering too. It?s not a good feeling to wake up in place you were never meant to be in.

So I?ve rented a room at a little inn. It?s not at the heart of the town, which is fine for me. Less I need to wade through if I happen to have an episode. The room is quaint and simple enough with a bed, night table and lamp, a bathroom and small wardrobe. The room is what I need it to be and for the amount of time. I have some money saved up to find a little apartment. I don?t need anything fancy or too large at the moment. Besides, the bigger the place then easier it is for me to wander around in.

I didn?t bring anything that was for settling in yet. I will send for most of my things once I have a place I can be happy with. I brought essentials for now along with items for Hilda?s son. Some of my essentials may not seem important to other people, but they definitely give me some measure of comfort. The first and foremost that I needed to get set up was my dream catcher.

I don?t know if I keep it for the craftsmanship, the sentiment, or if it does keep some of what I need it to at bay. It was meant for aid and comfort when everything started, but now?I don?t know if it?s just out of my control or if I?m simply cursed.

The ones who know say it?s not a curse. They say I should see it as a gift or an opportunity to overcome my weaknesses. I know some say it has progressed the way it has because I didn?t learn about it soon enough. And mostly the people back home just feel sorry for me because I was the only person to have it so young. Regardless, I will hang on to my dream catcher and other doodads that at least give me the sense that everything will be okay.


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The sunshine was nice during my walk around town. I enjoyed feeling the warmth on my cheeks and just feeling this sense of peace. I was never much of an outdoorsy kind of gal, but several months before my decision to move I had started to appreciate being outside. I started talking longer walks, breathing in the air, enjoying the scenery, and letting the peace overcome me. I?ve always known I needed the quiet peace, but I just never gave myself time to really feel it. To really enjoy it. To let it seep into my bones and burrow into my heart.

I found a little marketplace that sold a variety of items from food to personal care things. I enjoyed it. The vendors were friendly enough and it was nice to just have something simple. I made sure to pick up some snack items that didn?t require being cold (and I took pictures for my mom to see).
I wonder if I?ll start counting down days and times like I did back home. When I?ll start making a list of things that bother me. I?ve read when you start counting what upsets you then it?s time to move on or just buck up and keep going strong. I hope I don?t do the count down. But then it did take over twenty years for things at home to bother me. And it mostly became worse when I did. My patience had simply worn out by then and I just needed a change. I needed?.something.

Hell, I don?t even know what I completely need at this point in my life. I think?eventually I?ll need to sleep. I know for sure I?ll need a good meal. I saw a couple little places to pick up something to eat or order something at the inn. Either way I can eat in my room this afternoon and maybe go out again tonight, if I have the energy. I definitely will need to give mom another call, but maybe the pictures will be enough to pacify her.

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After my nap I explored some of the town. I heard about something called a BoozeFest. I didn?t partake nor really spend time at the fest. I mostly watched from around the edges before deciding to go elsewhere. I wasn?t feeling very boozy, I guess.

Don?t get me wrong. I?ll drink booze. I don?t mind it, but I am picky about my drinks. I just felt it would be better for me to not be influenced while trying to navigate my first night. It?s hard enough figuring out where I am without have liquor in my system.

The city seems nice enough. Lots of trees. Lots of people and creatures. I didn?t really talk to anyone in a social way yet. Mostly I?m just taking it all in and trying to figuring out my next move. Really, though, I?m not ready. Meeting new people can be so damn intimidating and I?m not exactly full of social grace. I?m not completely awkward, but I?m not someone to crash into a group or go and perk someone up if they look all upset.

I might watch. I might ask. I might even offer to buy the person a drink or meal. It just depends. I?m still tired, though, so I?ll probably go back to sleep and just wait until tomorrow before I do anything else.

Daylin called me again. I didn?t recognize the number, but I know it was him. No voicemail was left or any other message, but I just know it was him. He has never left a message when we were together. The calls just seemed insistent, one right after the other. It?s just like him to do that. He probably just wants to ask me why we broke up like he doesn?t know. Granted, I wasn?t completely honest to the why because I thought it was easier to say some of the more obvious reasons instead of the simple fact that I didn?t love him and he desperately wanted me to. He used to say we were an old married couple already because we didn?t spend time together anymore, but I know that it was all me. I was over the relationship. I was over him. I was over the way he was going about life. I was over the things he did to me.

He said I was the cruel one, but I wasn?t the one who tried to hurt the other one. He was only brave when he was drunk. And he was drunk more often than not, but I always told him the first time he ever laid a hand on me was going to be the last time. He sealed the deal the moment he put his hands on my neck. If I had been in a rage then I probably would have done something to him, but the simple fact was my stare was all it took for him to back off. My words slicing into his wrists to make him bleed. That was the last straw. I couldn?t take it anymore.

I know I should have ended it sooner. Hell, it never should have begun. I knew he and I were not a good mix from the beginning. He was trying to be the bad boy and I was the good girl. But I thought he wanted what I did. He talked so much about what he planned to do and he had this masculine way about him. I was also testing the waters with the idea of romance and he was romantic in the beginning. I should have ended it the first time he completely disregarded how I felt and tried to make me feel punished because I didn?t do what he wanted. I should have ended it when he threw a tantrum when I didn?t say I loved him after a couple nights of dating. He said he knew he loved me then, but I didn?t feel it. I didn?t agree and when I couldn?t say it back I let him make me feel guilty. I let him have his way.

I know a relationship is a two way street. I know that. I know I played my role in it. I know I let things happen and progress the way they did. I know I didn?t confront and just be sincere with everything, but I also didn?t know how. I also didn?t know how he would react. He did scare me in some ways. His reactions to things that didn?t go his way wasn?t the best and he admitted to becoming destructive and volatile.

I think I was hoping that we could make it work. That we could change, that we could be there for each other, that the things we had in common would be enough and what we wanted from life, and I thought who else would accept me the way I am? He didn?t ask me to be anything else and I didn?t ask him. Until I stopped being around and he kept disappearing. After that it just went downhill.

I admit, I don?t need a man to be happy. I am good on my own. I think what I like is having someone there to lean on when I need it. I miss having someone to do things with. I miss the tender moments that a couple shares. But I also know you don?t need to be a couple to have the moments. Sometimes, though, it?s just nice.

I just wish Daylin would move on and realize I will never speak to him again. I warned him in the beginning that once I let a person go I let them go completely. I don?t look back and wonder what if we had stayed together. I don?t call or look for a reconnection. I don?t come to the decision lightly, but once I finally reach that point then it?s done. There?s a reason why I had to come to the decision to begin with and I don?t plan to chance the same mistakes with the same person happening again. Typically, the trust has been broken so profoundly that I don?t think I could ever get it back.

Besides, I?m no peach and who wants to deal with me when I choose to be raving lunatic or a frigid snow queen? Sometimes I don?t want to deal with myself. Why should I expect someone else to?

What an odd day. I was out looking for possible apartments when a call came in. I didn?t recognize the number. Hell, I didn?t even recognize that my phone was ringing. It was such an odd sound for me because I don?t get very many phone calls. Most people just send messages nowadays. I let the call ring until the voicemail took over.

The call was from Daylin?s mother. It?s been at least two years since I ended it with Daylin. At least two years since he left some of his stuff with me and left with some of my stuff. He had been angry and said for me not to worry about my things because they weren?t my concern. He said he would come back for his stuff when I was away at work. I didn?t wait for that moment. When he was gone I packed up all his stuff in a box and left it out in the front for someone to give him if he showed up. I just happened to be home when he did come for his things. He said it hurt him that I had his things ready for him.

It might have hurt him, but I was ready to move on. And I didn?t want to give him a chance to be able to go rummaging through my stuff for the taking while I was gone. It was bad enough that he wouldn?t give me back anything he borrowed from me like my camera. Good thing I had already taken everything off of it while we had been dating otherwise I would have lost those little bits of visual memories.

Did I care that I hurt him? Yes, I did. I didn?t want to hurt him, but I didn?t get the impression that he was aware that he had been hurting me. His words were all about how everything was my fault. I didn?t try hard enough for the both of us. I expected too much. I shouldn?t have been serious when I said if he physically hurt me that it would be over. He did physically hurt me, more than once but the biggest was when he tried to choke me, and I did end it.

The physical choking wasn?t the only thing. I remember times when I felt like he was trying to demean and demoralize me in public and in private. He was choking me in every way. In turn, it made me distance myself. It made me come to feel disgust, anger, and an overall sense of dislike for him. I became the snow queen he often said I was. I became the bully he claimed I was because I was becoming a mouthy woman and I was pushing back. I was trying to intimidate him as he had tried to do with me. I was not going to be submissive to his supposed dominance.

Daylin?s mother interesting because she expected responsibility of her son and voiced anything and everything to him. I don?t know if Daylin and his mother realized how alike they were. Even the drinking was similar because she could get quite mean after once she became drunk. I remember this party where she had started to fall backward on the stairs she was climbing after a night of drinking, but I caught her before she fell back because I had been watching her when she stumbled to the stairs. She was belligerent when people offered to help her, but she wanted to go up the stairs to her bed alone. Daylin had been outside with his other family members, so after I caught her, and someone stronger had come to help her upstairs I went out to get Daylin, who got mad at what happened and stormed off. When I found him he was so angry that the family was still at his mother?s house while she went upstairs. He blamed them for the incident, for everything, when it had been him and his mother who had invited the guests and it had been his mother who had chosen to drink. I didn?t want to add fuel to Daylin?s fire by voicing these thoughts, so I kept silent and just listened.

This was the nature of our relationship, really. I was the listener, while he was the one who had the outbursts. I was the giver, while he took and said I didn?t need anything. I never asked him to give me much of anything, mind you. In fact, I often said I didn?t need presents but I did want some sentiment of sweetness. If we went anywhere I was to pack everything, carry everything, and generally prepare all plans. He said if I wanted to do anything then it was up to me to do all the work. And if I struggled then he grew impatient and simply left me behind to find him when I could manage. I didn?t ask him for help because I wasn?t going to fight a battle that I knew I would end up with war wounds and no resolution. Besides, the battle would have never ended. It would have kept going in small ways that would prick and bleed me out slowly.

I never told Daylin how I felt about our entire relationship when we broke up. I simply said I couldn?t deal with his lack of doing in other facets of his life other than when he had hurt me during the biggest incident. I didn?t bring up everything because I don?t think he realized how much he had hurt me. I never told anyone, really. I kept it all to myself, even to this day. Everyone believes me to be strong and capable, but to tell them that I let someone hurt me in so many ways is not something I know how to do. Besides, I don?t see any reason to make others think badly of Daylin. It?s not my responsibility to ensure that others view him negatively.

When we first broke up, he used to send me letters asking why we broke up because he couldn?t remember. He used to write that he missed me. He used to write about us changing and growing together. I never answered him. Then it went to phone calls with no messages left. I never answer or call back. Now his mother has called me. Is this another ploy? She just asked that when I have time if I could call her. I don?t know why she would call me. I can?t help her in anything and I have no deep ties to her family. The odd part is she asked me not to call her on the number that shows up on my phone. She even started to say a number then caught herself and said a different number. The entire message makes me wonder if this is some way for Daylin to be able to get me to respond and talk. It?s not a door I want to open. It?s a door I want to keep padlocked shut and hopefully cemented over.

Besides, I had let him go. I meant it when I let him go. I always mean it.

Another dream. Another memory in my head that I can?t completely place if it was me or someone else. At least I woke up in bed and nothing else was amiss other than the purplish bruise just below the inside crook of my left elbow. It?ll fade over time just like I hope the memory of this dream.

Hilda called to say she was taking her son on an unexpected vacation, so I?d have more time before I start my real work. She felt bad, but I told her not to worry about it. As a consolation, we met up and she paid me and gave me some money to purchase some things I think I?ll need to work with her son. We also talked about the terms of my work with her as I have no plans to stay employed by Hilda for a long time. Just long enough for me to get some more work done, save up some money, get settled (or not) and find her a good replacement.

It feels odd arranging work even though I know I won?t be doing it long term. But I always told myself I would not work as a nanny forever. I have other plans and I?d like to see them fulfilled. I want to work more on my pottery and I?m okay if I work with kids, but maybe not as the nanny. Maybe someone a little different, but I always go back to my pottery and I?ve toyed with the idea of starting my own shop. I think that?d be cool.

Arlene the shop owner. I wonder what I?d name my store. Maybe I could teach classes. I wouldn?t stop the other lessons and things I do, but it?d be kind of nice being able to make my own schedule instead of running on someone else?s.

I?m noticing that as I think of everything else I can?t stop looking at my bruise. It just reminds me that I need to find a good healer, someone who won?t ask a ton of questions. I also need to find some good spices and herbs. I won?t look for the spices and herbs until I find a place though. I doubt the innkeeper would want her room filled with various scents. Besides, I don?t want to have to transport it all when I do find an apartment.

Here?s to the search.

The first thing I had sent over from home was my guitar. I had learned to use one since I was child because my mother thought it would be good for me and my father found a good deal on a beautiful guitar. I remember practicing every day for hours on end and being absolutely horrible, but I didn?t care. Playing the guitar was thrilling for me and it gave me something to do besides read books. Sometimes I?d sing while I played and other times I just wanted a melody. As I grew older, I continued to play and even played in high school. I tended to play with less words and once the dreams started more vigorously I played more soothingly. It?s almost like I was reliving every dream through the strings of the guitar, so not all the melodies were soothing.

Now that I have a place I?m going to have my piano sent over. It?s not anything huge nor terribly expensive, but I can play it in my bedroom as I look out through one of the many windows. Playing the piano was more of a chore than the guitar. My grandmother taught me to play and she was strict. I remember when she used to hit her cane against the leg of the bench or do something else surprisingly sharp when I made a mistake. So I had to learn to be perfect on the piano. My love for playing isn?t as strong as my guitar but I enjoy the piano greatly as it?s just another extension of me.

Knowing these two instruments have helped me in my life greatly. In fact, I just received a letter from the Shanachie Theater. I?ve been hired to play on as a band member, which is what I wanted more so than being an actress in the theater. I can play other musical instruments but my preferences are guitar and piano, of which I am second to both and that?s fine. I don?t need to be a first for anything, really. I just want to be me and do what I enjoy most. I want to enjoy my passions in life. This works out great since Hilda will eventually be moving and I?ll need a job.

It seems like my life is starting to get some order again. I?ve been out buying a few items for my new home and trying to make it more livable. My mother has confirmed that she has started shipping boxes to me so that I can have more of my stuff and I don?t have to buy everything new. She said the family prepared a home welcoming box for me filled with items I might need. I?ll have to invite them out once I?m more settled and steeled for having the family around. I still need to find a herbs and spice shop, just in case I don?t find what I need in the wild and until I start growing some of my own. I also need to find a good healer who isn?t too nosy. I?ll ask around with some of the locals soon enough. I am grateful for the owner of the Pewter Leaf for letting me use her place for mail and receiving of my boxes. She even said she?ll have her nephew help with carting my boxes over to the new place.

For some reason all the changes has me thinking about Jeremiah. I don?t know why and I don?t want to know. I won?t contact him as I?ve been there and done that. He never answers, though I was a different person back then. He probably has changed too. Hell, for all I know he could be with someone else and I definitely wouldn?t ruin that for him. I always wanted him to find a place for his heart. He seemed like he needed that. I just?I don?t know. I miss him. We always had this bond that seemed so mystical like we were meant to be connected. We have the same middle name just with different spellings and we used to be able to talk for hours on end just about random stuff. Then I don?t know what happened, but we stopped talking. He got busy and I didn?t want to beg for his attention. But that?s always been the way between Jeremiah and myself. He was the world traveler, the drifter, the explorer who knew everyone and did everything and I wasn?t. I wasn?t brave enough to go with him then, but I am now.

I?m doing what you wanted me to do, Jeremiah. I?m taking the leap and I?m being the explorer you wanted me to be back then. I?m just doing it without you. I?m doing it on my own terms, at my own pace, and on my own. Being the adventurer makes me think of you, Jeremiah, and our past but it doesn?t make me regret the choices I made back then. All this adventure does is remind about how strong I really am.

UGH. I don?t know who or what it was, but I know the feeling. It?s that feeling of eyes watching you with more than a casual glance, but more a predator spying a prey. I hate it. And I don?t mean the whole predator and prey scenario.

What I hate is that some person or being gets that look and passes it on to someone else. But you know what? How do you know you aren?t the one being preyed upon? You get the look like you?re the snake about to eat the mouse, but maybe that damn mouse is just a trap for someone?s machete to come and chop of your head.

I didn?t bother to see who it was nor did I care to look, but I am no prey. I may not look like I?m tough, but I?m stronger than I look. Besides, in this town, maybe I can transform or spew fire or hex someone. Maybe I carry the guitar around to eventually smash it into some poor soul?s face and break fingers.

?Okay?..probably not smash the guitar as I don?t want to buy another one, but I?m not opposed to breaking someone?s limb if I have to. Or hex. Or whatever I have to do to survive. I?m not a saint and I?m not a butcher. I am simply someone who isn?t going to be afraid of someone else. I have lived through other terrors and continue to do so now.

Whoever you think you are, big ol? baddie, you are nothing that I am scared of. Piss off. And maybe I?ll let you keep your fingers intact.

I?don?t know. I just don?t. I want to say he?s found a way to me again, and it wouldn?t be that surprising if he did, but I don?t need this now.

With every generation there has been one to go. His kind usually chooses, no seduces, and she follows willingly. I didn?t go. I didn?t?no?that?s a lie. I was seduced. I was tempted and we had that link. It was instantaneous. He knows and feels it, but I didn?t go. I wasn?t going to have someone decide for me and I wasn?t going to be one those shells of a girl.

The girls who existed and walked amongst us, but you knew she wasn?t there. You knew in the shadows that her beast was there holding the leash. I wasn?t going to be someone?s pet or toy. I told him that and I tried to sever the bond, but I know I wasn?t successful because he always had this way to weasel his way through and get to me.

I won?t be his pet. The dream was a memory of a time. I felt his touch and his kiss. We had the passion we always did and I relived the moments. They were so gloriously delicious, but I broke it before I went too far. Before it became too real and he sucked me in fully. It?ll be a matter of time before he comes at me directly. Nothing has changed. I won?t be the pet. I will be the one who breaks the chain.

He made actual contact with me today. It was a moment, but it was enough to make me pause and catch my breath. It was one of those touches that was so feather soft, but jarring enough to cause me shudder. He didn?t say anything or do anything overt, but he was there just brushing against the edge of my consciousness to acknowledge where I had been and what I had been doing.

I had been having weird dreams, but nothing life transporting. Just enough of my own self-doubts coming to the surface to haunt me. I swear he has this uncanny timing to surface just when I think I?m settling in and finding my footing then I might get just a bit of doubt and there he is. I don?t know if he feels me that well or just has that ability to know, but it never fails and it makes me question myself all the more.

But I know I have to maintain my resolve. I can?t let myself be sucked into the pull that he has. I won?t seek him out or call out to him in any way. It leads me into a world where I lose myself so completely that it?s hard to ever recover?if recovery is even possible. I?m strong, I?m capable, and I know I?m better off with our worlds not colliding. Now I just need my heart and mind to release the hold on that final chain.

It has almost been a year since I had to make a choice to live or live with such an excruciating pain until the day I die. I chose to live without pain, only I didn?t really escape unscathed. My pain is no longer of the physical but of the emotional, heart wrenching type.

Some people have said I should be grateful for being alive now. That I should regret my choice, but I do regret it because I have not yet come to terms with the decision I felt I had to make. The consequences of my decision now leads me down a new path, but it?s a path I would?ve had to take but in a more chemically induced state. So either way?.was there ever really a choice?

Sure. I?m not ingesting pills to keep me from the edge of feeling constant pain, but I am trying to find my balance and peace of mind with the decision I made. Deep inside I feel like part of my heart is broken and part of my soul is damaged. My mind tries to keep the balance as I repeat how I am doing great, how I living out my dreams, and how I will keep myself strong and I try to propel myself back into a state of mind that does not fill with a deep sadness or regret. A space that does not want to make a deal with the devil just so I can feel whole again.

There are plenty of devils to make deals with, but I know I can?t go back. I won?t go back. Sometimes, though, I start thinking?what if? My mind wanders and I start to feel that regret. I still function during this time and I try to hide how I?m feeling. I guess it?s good I don?t have family here or too many friends otherwise this whole trying to heal on my own would be much more difficult.

I know there will come a day when everything will hurt less and less. But I know I?m not the same person and I don?t look at things the same way anymore. What I want from life has changed and I just need to find some way to come to terms with that. Hopefully I can do it sooner than later.

I can do this. I will keep going because I?m too stubborn to stop. I just need to breathe. Maybe I?ll do something to celebrate the anniversary of the piece of myself I gave away so I could live. Then I?ll need to start figuring out how I can live my life to fullest without the heart of regret weighing me down.