Open Your Eyes and Push It All Away.
Yesterday sucked until I finally got a text from my girlfriend saying she was sleeping, but fine, and that she'd call me later. I cannot express the amount of relief I felt. When I woke up in the middle of the night between Sunday and Monday and saw that she didn't come over, I was not concerned about my headache, my friendship with Tom, or my street credit. I wasn't even concerned that Kayla had come to the conclusion that she did not love me anymore; I knew we'd work it out because that's what we do. My only concern was for her safety. It lasted from 2:48 a.m. Monday morning until 6:23 p.m. Monday evening.
I'm glad she didn't wait a moment longer, as I started getting busy right around then, and with my fears allayed, I was able to complete my shift despite a wicked hangover and make another $260. I need all the money I can get while the income is both good and guaranteed, and I really cannot afford to be anywhere but "right here" while I'm at work.
Sunday night's happenings and how it affected me Monday have made it clear just how important Kayla is to me. I disappointed her with my behavior at the bar, but at least she seems to understand that I did it because I didn't like the way Tom was treating her. Could I have handled it better? You bet. But in the moment, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to rip his head off and shit down his neck. I haven't felt an inner rage like that in so long, I forgot how to control it. It seemed only seconds from the time that the coals started stoking until I was hellfire. At least I was collected enough to leave when I did. The takeaway is that my love for Kayla is much stronger than I let show on a regular basis. It is a deep passion that influences my behavior and life choices, and after what happened on Sunday night, I realize it is more powerful than I thought. It was primal, dangerous, beautiful.
As far as my relationship with Tom goes, I haven't spoken to him yet, but we will inevitably work together, so it does matter. I have no intention of making his job any less enjoyable than it already is, so I will be a good coworker as I've always been to those at work whom I despise, but I am not really interested in patching this one up. I have a month to go, and once I'm gone none of this will be relevant. Sunday night could have gone differently, but it didn't, and in the aftermath I don't see anything worth saving. He will never understand why I got so irate, and I will never apologize for it.
I'm glad she didn't wait a moment longer, as I started getting busy right around then, and with my fears allayed, I was able to complete my shift despite a wicked hangover and make another $260. I need all the money I can get while the income is both good and guaranteed, and I really cannot afford to be anywhere but "right here" while I'm at work.
Sunday night's happenings and how it affected me Monday have made it clear just how important Kayla is to me. I disappointed her with my behavior at the bar, but at least she seems to understand that I did it because I didn't like the way Tom was treating her. Could I have handled it better? You bet. But in the moment, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to rip his head off and shit down his neck. I haven't felt an inner rage like that in so long, I forgot how to control it. It seemed only seconds from the time that the coals started stoking until I was hellfire. At least I was collected enough to leave when I did. The takeaway is that my love for Kayla is much stronger than I let show on a regular basis. It is a deep passion that influences my behavior and life choices, and after what happened on Sunday night, I realize it is more powerful than I thought. It was primal, dangerous, beautiful.
As far as my relationship with Tom goes, I haven't spoken to him yet, but we will inevitably work together, so it does matter. I have no intention of making his job any less enjoyable than it already is, so I will be a good coworker as I've always been to those at work whom I despise, but I am not really interested in patching this one up. I have a month to go, and once I'm gone none of this will be relevant. Sunday night could have gone differently, but it didn't, and in the aftermath I don't see anything worth saving. He will never understand why I got so irate, and I will never apologize for it.