I write to express what I cannot say. I write because I cannot speak the words that I feel. I write to feel what my body will not allow.
Devasted and crushed, are wonderful adjectives to describe how my life has turned at this point, turned on a dime and spat in my face. I used to laugh at others in the face about things like this, I didn’t understand, but I cannot comprehend the feelings that I am having at this current moment in time. No. I dare not speak of how my soul is broken, and how everything that I could have obtained at this point is no longer able to achieve. I am broken, and unsure of myself, and I have no clue what I am going to do next. Again; I am lost.
I am not going to Michigan for graduate school and it breaks my heart. I have not cried this hard over something in such a long time. I have not felt this hurt about anything that I can remember. I cannot say these words aloud to anyone or I will start crying in front of them and I can’t have that. I can’t do it. Even now, this is entirely too difficult.
My roommate has now seen me cry, the others watched me get stupid drunk to where I wanted to forget the day ever happened. But getting drunk hadn’t changed anything, calling up someone to have sex with so I could forget about my future didn’t help me feel better. Maybe at the time, but certainly not now and not forever. If I utter the words, I was not accepted for graduate school, I tear up, I bite my lip, and I inhale sharply because just saying these words hurts like someone is stabbing me in the gut and twisting the knife so sharply that my heart is turned to mush.
What’s worse is looking for a career but everything requiring a Master’s level degree…
September is not my month. Maybe this isn’t meant to be my year, no matter how foolishly I believed it was back in January when I was drunk and in love with New Year’s.