I’m missing the people, the places, the things. Most of all, I’m missing the freedom. I always found peace in knowing I could make my own decisions, do whatever I wanted. However this is no longer the case. This has become more of a curse than a blessing, and I feel trapped. And although I can trick myself into believing this rut will only last during these nine months, I know the truth is that this rut will be everlasting. No day will ever be simple, no moment will ever be consequence-free. I will pay for this mistake for the rest of my life. As sad as that may be, the choice has already been made, my fate determined. I spend the quiet evenings wishing this all away, denying reality. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll things will ever be okay again.
I can’t begin to describe the way this feels. I used to know who I was and what I wanted, but it seems the power of change proved too strong for my identity. This came as a shock to all of us, and yet, I find myself wondering if maybe this was always meant to be. Maybe I am reckless, irresponsible, dumb. I have no excuse for my actions. It would be fair to blame it on alcohol; I could say my judgement was impaired. But that would be a lie. I knew what I was doing, and I knew the risk. And I witnessed the strength of denial first-hand; it couldn’t happen to me. No safety-nets, no repeats, I thought I was invincible. I can’t give reason to this, a skill I was always so good at. I have surprised and scared myself, for when you lose a sense of who you are, you lose everything.
