New chapter and whatnot.
Just as I suspected, things are better here.
My last month in New Jersey was beyond insane. It was a display of everything. It started with the crashing and burning of a long-standing, turbulent and confusing affair of sorts. Then there was a bit of traveling, then jury duty, then an impromptu trip to Rehoboth Beach, then I was stalked for two weeks by the man that had essentially dismissed the past two years as triviality.
A devotion to myself and the people that deserved the best of me played out for three weeks, ending with a party soaked with gin, laughter and tears until all hours of the night. I retired to the shack with dear friend, slept soundly, woke up, cleaned up from the debacle and then packed everything I own into my Mini Cooper and moved to Maryland.
Also, during that three weeks, I had the pleasure of out-processing from one DA Civilian post to another which I found to be the most stressful experience of my life.
I arrived here, tired, beaten to a pulp and in my pajamas no less, at 7pm on Saturday, 31 July. I had dinner with some close friends and then slept for 18 hours.
I have relocated away from my dearest friends, my life of 27 years in the Garden State and everything I've known.
How is it?
It's busy.
Every night, I do something. I go to a bar or to play mini golf. I get ice cream and walk along the road. I work out every single day like I'm in prison, like it's the only thing I have. There's nothing here yet.
There's no construct of insanity. All of that is behind me. There's no drama, conflict or adventure. There's just life. The life a person ought to live.
At work, I work. I work eight solid hours. I write until my wrists hurt. I don't take lunch and then I head to gym on post and put my body through hell. I have a good solid dinner, bullshit with my new roommates and then I go to bed.
It's a normal life.
I waited eight years, I built this. I'm here now. It's all mine.
My last month in New Jersey was beyond insane. It was a display of everything. It started with the crashing and burning of a long-standing, turbulent and confusing affair of sorts. Then there was a bit of traveling, then jury duty, then an impromptu trip to Rehoboth Beach, then I was stalked for two weeks by the man that had essentially dismissed the past two years as triviality.
A devotion to myself and the people that deserved the best of me played out for three weeks, ending with a party soaked with gin, laughter and tears until all hours of the night. I retired to the shack with dear friend, slept soundly, woke up, cleaned up from the debacle and then packed everything I own into my Mini Cooper and moved to Maryland.
Also, during that three weeks, I had the pleasure of out-processing from one DA Civilian post to another which I found to be the most stressful experience of my life.
I arrived here, tired, beaten to a pulp and in my pajamas no less, at 7pm on Saturday, 31 July. I had dinner with some close friends and then slept for 18 hours.
I have relocated away from my dearest friends, my life of 27 years in the Garden State and everything I've known.
How is it?
It's busy.
Every night, I do something. I go to a bar or to play mini golf. I get ice cream and walk along the road. I work out every single day like I'm in prison, like it's the only thing I have. There's nothing here yet.
There's no construct of insanity. All of that is behind me. There's no drama, conflict or adventure. There's just life. The life a person ought to live.
At work, I work. I work eight solid hours. I write until my wrists hurt. I don't take lunch and then I head to gym on post and put my body through hell. I have a good solid dinner, bullshit with my new roommates and then I go to bed.
It's a normal life.
I waited eight years, I built this. I'm here now. It's all mine.