The leap
I'm getting married.
I'm getting married and I'm very excited. I'm also moving. To Hawaii. In November.
Uh....what?
These were not difficult decisions to make, ironically; one would think that such life-altering, mind-fucking decisions would be difficult. They were the easy ones. This week, I made the decision to not attend Pitt for one last semester. You know what? Hardest, scariest decision I've ever made. It's also probably the best I've ever made for myself, which makes it sting even worse. I love Pitt. I love the people I've met, I love my Italian professor, I even love working at Panera. I'm giving these things up, as well as probably the best schedule of the most interesting classes ever.
Let's be honest: I canNOT afford to go there. My family of four is below the poverty line for this state and I STILL don't qualify for full aid. I would owe $3k for the fall semester alone. There is no way in hell Manuel and I can pay that by September; we have a lot on our financial plates as it is. Even small, personal weddings cost money. Furnishing a three-bedroom home halfway across the world isn't cheap either. I have decided that I would rather not take out more loans to go to Pitt for one wasted semester, when half of my credits won't transfer to the University of Hawaii Manoa.
Let's talk about something else.
I've been having nightmares about a certain ex of mine. They aren't nightmares because they're scary; they're nightmares because I both dread and masochistically anticipate them. They are full of regret; I dream that I go back and I am teased by what I'm supposedly missing. <--- That's my subconcious talking. In real life, conciously, I regret nothing except that we are no longer friends. I might even say I regret initiating a romantic relationship because it ruined a beautiful friendship. I was selfish, though, and thought I needed someone to appreciate me, to fuss over me, to think I'm without fault. Then I grew up. Manuel grew up. And here I am now.
I regret no longer being close, especially now that I'm moving. My hopes for reconciliation are sinking in the murky muck of reality. He wants nothing to do with me. He has other friends, better friends; crushes and hook-ups; parties; vacations. I have the world and nothing to be unhappy about. I guess what ultimately irks me is that it all feels unfinished.
I hope that made sense.
I'm getting married and I'm very excited. I'm also moving. To Hawaii. In November.
Uh....what?
These were not difficult decisions to make, ironically; one would think that such life-altering, mind-fucking decisions would be difficult. They were the easy ones. This week, I made the decision to not attend Pitt for one last semester. You know what? Hardest, scariest decision I've ever made. It's also probably the best I've ever made for myself, which makes it sting even worse. I love Pitt. I love the people I've met, I love my Italian professor, I even love working at Panera. I'm giving these things up, as well as probably the best schedule of the most interesting classes ever.
Let's be honest: I canNOT afford to go there. My family of four is below the poverty line for this state and I STILL don't qualify for full aid. I would owe $3k for the fall semester alone. There is no way in hell Manuel and I can pay that by September; we have a lot on our financial plates as it is. Even small, personal weddings cost money. Furnishing a three-bedroom home halfway across the world isn't cheap either. I have decided that I would rather not take out more loans to go to Pitt for one wasted semester, when half of my credits won't transfer to the University of Hawaii Manoa.
Let's talk about something else.
I've been having nightmares about a certain ex of mine. They aren't nightmares because they're scary; they're nightmares because I both dread and masochistically anticipate them. They are full of regret; I dream that I go back and I am teased by what I'm supposedly missing. <--- That's my subconcious talking. In real life, conciously, I regret nothing except that we are no longer friends. I might even say I regret initiating a romantic relationship because it ruined a beautiful friendship. I was selfish, though, and thought I needed someone to appreciate me, to fuss over me, to think I'm without fault. Then I grew up. Manuel grew up. And here I am now.
I regret no longer being close, especially now that I'm moving. My hopes for reconciliation are sinking in the murky muck of reality. He wants nothing to do with me. He has other friends, better friends; crushes and hook-ups; parties; vacations. I have the world and nothing to be unhappy about. I guess what ultimately irks me is that it all feels unfinished.
I hope that made sense.