What was I thinking?
No scratch that. I don't believe I even was.
And now I'm looking at the massive amount of crow I'm about to have to eat. I'm getting heartburn just thinking about it...
"Don't you think it's time you just pack it up and come back home?" My mother asked me tonight.
Of course, I can't survive forever up here with no job. But it's painful to swallow the thought of having to turn back around and go home.
And it doesn't mean finding a job is going to be any easier in my hometown. Jobs are scarce period.
Not just here in Chatt.
But I'm digging my fingers into the cliff's edge and hanging on. I'm not ready to throw in the towel. And if it becomes necessary, I don't know that I'll have the ability.
I can hear my father now... "I told you so. I told you, you should've listen to me..."
But you know what's worse than the possiblity of moving back in with the rents?
Going back to the one place where everyone knows every skeleton in my closet. They think they know me. So they judge me.
It's like putting on a show, playing a part, reading from a script, when you live in a small town.
Becuase if you were to say the wrong something to someone who knew someone and they told that someone and it got back to another someone, you're screwed.
Living with your head constantly over your shoulder is exhausting. Better watch your step because you're always being watched.
Because in a place like that, people need something, someone, to talk about.
And those skeletons in my closet are quite amusing to some.
Lived Through by Mandie Described at 2:06 AM