I feel like saying I'm lost.
But that's not quite right, is it? Besides the obvious cliche, the words fall flat. I never really found myself in the first place, so in a way I've always been lost; I just didn't notice it so much for a while there. Back then I threw away the map, and stared at you for guidance. You were all I needed, and I bathed in the joy that came with no directions.
And then, quite suddenly, you were gone, and I was on my own again. The loneliness took over, consumed me, and then spit me out in a crumpled ball when it was quite through. Stumbling, I tried to straighten up, to figure out which side of the world the sun faced, and I aimed in that direction. I chose the wrong path. I'm still heading toward the sun--if my calculations are right, I should start hitting the daylight Friday around noon--but it wasn't a straight shot.
Let's be honest. I lost you. "It wouldn't have worked out, anyway", I keep telling myself. I don't know if that's true, of course, but sometimes it hurts less thinking that way. Sometimes it hurts more.
I lost my motivation to do anything productive with my life. But I know I need the grades, so I'm doing the bare minimum. And getting away with it. Everyone's afraid to break me if they push too hard. The first few days hit hard. Even my teacher noticed Tuesday that something was terribly wrong with me. She offered me a chance to talk, but didn't push. I chose to be alone, hiding out on the couch in the bathroom with my headphones in, instead.
I lost my job. I need the money to go back to main campus next semester. To buy gas to get me to classes this semester. I need the experience to get me a future job. Or an internship. Or a life in the real world.
I don't know where I'm going. The only thing I can see is that tiny patch of sunlight on Friday.
God willing, the light it brings will help me last longer than I can imagine at the moment.