I wish I could cry about normal things. Being poor, cold, without food or utilities, or at least facing all of these as we are now. For the most part though I like that I'm too stubborn to feel hopeless. There is a quiet optimist in every stubborn soul, I believe. That's what gets us through it. I come from a long line of these people - it's ingrained in me.
"It's been worse." "It's always worked out." "Nothing will happen, I'll find a way." It's on a constant loop in my brain. I don't say it as a way to hide the fear from myself. There just is no fear. As there is always a downside to everything in me, this logic of "nothing will happen" also has gotten me into trouble. I push everything as far as it will go. How much can I get away with? How long until it blows up in my face? Will it ever? Maybe I'm just young and too confident. But time after time, throughout my whole life, I've been able to say "it'll be fine, things will work out, crying over this will accomplish nothing."
I won't even lie to myself in the most private area of expression I have. I will say that yes, of course all I want it, please Universe, let this all be resolved before my pets die or we're too cold or we need candles to see or we can hear our stomachs growl from across the room and know there is nothing to be done about it. I just haven't discovered what yet. Please Universe, please help me find the way. Please.
My divine little piece of heaven is feeling the insatiable need in my chest to be in New York City, the only place in the world I feel truly okay. I am complete when I'm there. There is no yesterday or tomorrow while I'm in heaven. If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere. As they say. Thinking about NYC makes me mind fuzzy and my heart feel full. Spring break. I'm as determined to make this happen for myself as I am to feed my cats and dogs right now.
Too stubborn to give up.
