The Ride

I was waiting in line at an amusement park, but it wasn't until I got right up to the front that I knew what I was in for: a roller coaster. "I should tell you," I told TC's roommate. "I don't like roller coasters." The roommate smiled. "You'll be fine."

And suddenly we were in the car, but it was straight out of a cartoon, and there were no bars, no straps, no seats. We were standing in a small space with no roof and then we were off, speeding down the tracks. I looked back at where TC was climbing into the car behind me, smiling and full of joy and hope. I looked at the roommate. "You'll be fine!"

We were at the top of the hill, and the roommate looked at me again. "Here it comes! Are you ready?" My insides were like hot soup, sloshing around inside of me, and I watched the descent come into view. Before I could blink we were up and over and flying down the steep hill. Relief gushed out of me but it was short lived. Up ahead I saw the loop.

"I'm going to fall out!" I shouted to the roommate. I looked back at TC. Still grinning. I shouted one more time, "I'm going to fall!" The roommate pressed himself into a corner of the car and so I followed suit.

And then we were up. The car sped around and over the loop and then immediately pulled into the station. I survived. I climbed out of the car feeling a thousand tiny pin pricks of anxiety and adrenaline all at once. TC was behind me. Still smiling.

When I woke up from the dream, it was 1:30 in the morning. The day's earlier discussion was still heavy on my mind, and it had clearly manifested itself very literally in my sleep. I looked at my phone. He had texted me. "You ok?" I took a breath.

"I'm okay."

Maybe you might have some advice to give on how to be insensitive

I have this problem. I blame it on being born under the Cancer sign, and developing deeply emotional relationships with everyone and everything in my life. I cannot throw things away. In any sense. I have a difficult time breaking up with guys, no matter if we’ve been together for a week or a year. I’ve only quit one job in my whole life and I cried like a baby when I told my supervisor I wouldn’t be returning. I have t-shirts in my dresser that I haven’t worn in ten years, but they were gifts and I cannot chuck them. I feel deeply. I don’t know any other way.

I know my time at this job is up. The company is hurting and they can offer me no more money. I cannot be promoted. There is nothing left for me here, but when I imagine myself walking into my boss’s office, giving her an ultimatum and telling her that I deserve to be paid more or I’m quitting, I get nauseous. She hasn’t always been the best boss: she gives me time off when I need it, but wants to keep me chained to this position, sending her UPS packages and helping her fix computer glitches. I am the model assistant. I anticipate needs, I am efficient and upbeat, and I rarely complain about anything in the presence of my superiors.

But I am more than the exemplary assistant, and in staying here I am stifling everything I spent my whole life developing. I am rational in my thought process, bold in my statements, but I am a coward in the follow through. I don’t want to care deeply for my boss, but I do. She has invited me to dinner at her home and cried with me when I was sick and needed surgery. Quitting this job feels like letting her down.

This is just a job. It is a step on my path, and a small one at that. But it has become a part of me and I don’t know how to let go.

Grey

Today I am discouraged. I am disheartened. I am in despair. Because today, again, that gnawing feeling has asserted itself, almost breaking through my heart and out of my lips. Today again I have suppressed it and shrugged it away. Today again I've played an April Fool's joke on myself just as I have been doing for the past three years.

I should never have sent in that acceptance letter. I should have walked out that very first day. I should have waited a year to see how I felt. I should have waited for that Masters acceptance - the one that got there two months too late. No.

I should have applied for that Masters two months earlier, I should have only applied to programs I liked, I should have only applied to city schools. No.

I should have sat for a moment and thought. Thought deep and thought long. Before I registered for the LSAT. I should have researched and read blogs and stories. I should have looked into myself. I should have searched inside and outside and I should have found and listened to that voice in my heart. Yes.

I should have taken diverse classes. I should have majored in literature and languages. I should have taken writing classes. I should have explored my interests more. I should have tried harder to find myself. Yes.

Today I started an internship. And my feet were heavy walking out of the door. And my eyes didn't sparkle. And my hair felt limp even though it was freshly washed. Because once again I find myself doing things I don't want to do.

Ditch it, you say. Do what you want. Go find yourself. You're so young, your entire life stretches out in front of you. You can do anything. Don't get caught up in the daily doldrums, don't forget what's important in life: you!

I can't. I know it. In some ways I don't know myself at all but in some ways I know better than anyone else. I can't stop once I've taken a path. I don't know how to turn away. And even if I'm rolling in the wrong direction I cannot bring myself to stop.

Today I whispered "April Fool's" under my breath as I got off the metro. Today I shook my head at myself. Today I knew, once again, I'll still play this game for a while.

Until one day I throw up my hands and cook and write and draw and sing loudly and badly as I do all of those.

But I'll play this game for a while.

Following A Dream

I had a dream last Tuesday. I was in Seattle, staying with S.'s parents. My weekend had gotten so busy that I realized suddenly that it was Sunday and I hadn't seen the LDC yet. I called and heard laughter in the background but he hung up on me. I texted instead: My plane leaves in a couple hours -- I'm not going to see you?

And then I woke up. It wasn't the worst dream I'd ever had but it definitely stuck with me. It was bad enough to remember.

Thursday afternoon at work the LDC sent me an IM.

He: So I had the weirdest dream about you last night.

Me: Oh yeah? A good one?

He: It was strange, you were in town for the weekend but both our schedules were so busy that before I knew it, it was Sunday and I never got to see you.

If he and I are really not meant to be, then fate needs to stop messing with my head. And stay out of my dreams.