I’m having a week of total loneliness, frustration and misery. I’m feeling discouraged about my career; I’m feeling discouraged about being away from my partner constantly; I’m feeling frustrated with living without all the amenities I used to have in the big glamorous winter-less city I called home. The days are getting achingly short. The mornings are dark. Everything feels like it’s coming to a nerve-wracking head, and I’m nervous and stressed and unhappy and crabby this week. I want to bite everyone’s head off. I want to crawl into a hole and just say, “fuck this. Fuck everything” and let it all go. But then I look up, and I see all of this:
I see a partner who appreciates every single thing that I do and say, whether it has to do with him or not. I see someone who is so kind and giving and sweet and loving and caring, and someone I aspire to be like, and be with, all at the same time. I see a hero in the man I love and I see the missing puzzle piece in all the small and large ways he inspires me to be a better human being, a better teacher, and a better girlfriend. I see him in my dreams and whenever I have a great, or bad day. I see myself running to him not out of desperation, but out of excitement and romance and happiness just to be in love and be alive and be adopted by a loving second family. To be with him is to be home. To be with him tears down my walls and makes me realize just how much love is alive, unlike what I thought about love lifetimes and lifetimes and lifetimes ago.
I see a career I strived for and died for and lost sleep and gave up so much of what I love for. I see every single kid I’ve ever taught and the ways they made me proud and frustrated me and aggravated me and challenged me and made me feel inadequate and adequate and mature and immature and funny, all at the same time. I see something that I’m losing the will to fight for one day, and then am willing to fight for it full force the next day. I see a career that has never made me feel bored or useless, but is constantly either making me feel like a goddess on top of the world, or like a meek, incapable failure. Both of those things are oddly, good. Because they show me that I’m at a point where I continuously care, and challenge myself. A few years ago, I’d never, ever have the fucking guts to challenge myself like this.
I see a place that I never thought I’d embody in space or time, ever, but that has given me the chance to be at least a little closer to the man I’m head over heels in love with, and has given me this chance to challenge myself, even when it makes me want to spill over the edge. I see the world spinning non-stop, bringing me highs and lows and loneliness and vigour and joy and pain and heartaches and frustration and sleepless nights and days when I can’t force myself awake to save my life.
This is why I’m doing this. Maybe that makes me a glutton for punishment, but the point is: the hardest things in life are things worth fighting for and both of these things that are bringing me down this week are more than worth fighting for. I want them and I loved them and I’ve worked so hard to make them work and make them streamlined and make them as smooth and good as they possibly can be for my life at this time. Things that are worth fighting for, are worth fighting for. It’s as simple as that. And I will not stop fighting. I will not.