Is it Time to Give Up Hope?
Everyone knows I don't live in the land of porn. Very few of you know, I grew up a few hours from Porn Valley. It's true. Until I was 18, I lived in Sunny Vista and Oceanside. Ok, they're both actually kind of shit holdes filled with desert rats and beach bums, but they're home. More so, they're my home. When I was 18, I moved in with my dad in DC. After that, I met a boy, we broke up, very messy and I started to move A LOT. Anytime I felt like it, I moved. I lived in Brooklyn. Hated it. Moved back to DC. Hated it. Moved to PHilly. Loved my best friend. Hated that city. Whoever nicknamed it the city of brotherly love obviously never lived there. Moved back to DC. Met a boy. Moved to Atlanta. And that is where I have stayed. I've spent quite a few years threatening to move home, but everytime I would get the courage to move back something would happen. Yup, you guessed it, I would meet a boy and uproot my entire life to move to them and stay. I don't know why, I guess at my core, I'm just a hopeless romantic.
This brings me to my topic at hand. I was sitting in an office the other day discussing life. More like word vomiting how chaotic my life has become and how I just don't know what to do anymore. We all have those moments. You know the ones where you think and drink and then think and drink. You start to wonder about your life choices, about why you are where you are, and what you need. This person I was talking to just looked at me and said, why are you still here? No, I'm serious, why are you still in Georgia, just give me one good reason. I was taken aback. That was the first moment I realized I didn't know. I looked at my fingers, looked at my phone, and racked my brain. My answers were Scott, my dog, and my house. These didn't satisfy the person. This led to the next question, which was, hope is a good thing to have, but after a while hope stops being enough. I think you're reaching that point. The hope is no longer a good thing to have, but a detriment. Curiousity is the key to life and you've been curious about moving home for years. Now your friends are there, your job, the beach, and everything you want so why stay here? I couldn't answer that. I was grasping at straws. None of my answers seemed to satisfy this woman. I went home and thought about it.
She was right. In some aspects, she was absolutely right. My life had become chaotic because I chose for it to be that way. I made my bed and now I was lying in it, too scared to move. I can't remember a time when I felt so helpless and contained by fear. At 18, I packed a car full of stuff and moved across the country. I called my dad and said come get me and two days later I was gone. So, why was this such an issue now? The issue was that I was hoping and am still hoping. I'm hoping that the pieces fit together again and I'm happy. Howevever, how long does one wait to be happy? I've been waiting nearly 6 months now. I wait for the dust to settle and then I get comfortable. Once I get comfortable the cycle starts over again. So, the question is when does one give up hope? When does one just let something go and go on with life? Is it tomorrow? Is it the next day? Or do you wait? Wait and see what happens clutching on white kunckled to hope that it will get better? I'm not sure, but I'm working on it. I'm working on figuring out the answer. I'm working on letting my curiousity control me, instead of my fear and the fact I've become comfortable. Will I move? I haven't decided yet. I'm just taking it one day at a time, thinking about the question and what the answer is. When does one let it go and give up hoping?
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