Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Most People

I'm sitting in front of a giant window which would look out onto our driveway if it were daytime. At this hour it's just a mirror. I don't like mirrors. My fingers are freezing. My nose is cold. We still don't have heat. I sit in front of my little space heater and wonder what being rich would feel like.

I cried on the drive home tonight, as I do many nights. Wondering what to do with everything. Am I really this 24 year old unsuccessful-with-two-degrees girl that is staring back at me from the window? I understand why I cried this time.

I'm afraid of being hurt. I'm sure most people are, but this feeling seems to be way more extreme than most people. I'm not like most people. Most people don't dream about being at work and having a customer buy soup...especially when they work in an office supplies store. Most people don't sit around wondering who the next person to hurt them will be, or how they will do it. Most people don't think about family members dying. Most people don't think everyone else matters but them. Most people...

I made eye contact with someone tonight. And normally this wouldn't be a big deal, except...I'm me. And when he looked at me, it was as if he knew something was wrong and I wanted to cry. I'm afraid my pretense of happiness is wearing off. It's stressful really, to focus on work and family and finances and friends AND a false sense of contentment...and I'm afraid, especially if Tim Gunn reads this, that I can not make it work.

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