So here it is, my new journal. It's not like the diaries we kept as teenagers... This one is not just for me and my sorrow, this one goes out to the Web, the World, as a whisper in the wind. It gives me comfort to know that somebody might hear. To bear witness, to listen, to know. So I'm less alone than before.
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The thing is I made a wrong choice long ago. I took the wrong path. But now it seems to me that my real mistake was NOT to make a choice. My choice was to do nothing and I just went with the flow. I went wherever life took me - so now I'm stuck and have nowhere to turn. My strategy is to wait it out, but maybe that's wrong again 'cause the thing that lacks in my life is action.
I am not a docile person. I speak what I mean and usually don't give people the chance to boss me around. But I failed terribly in my personal life and now I'm stuck in my little domestic hell with no love, no job, no money and no understanding except few of my closest friends.
My primary family failed to help me. I reached out to my partner for help, but our relationship grows colder with every month and now we are as far apart as we could ever be. He's lost a job too and things are bound to get even worse.
I'm making enough money per month to get by without burdening him with my expenses. I'm trying to find a decent job, but these days that's hard around here. Almost everybody I know is looking for a job opportunity, but all we get is lousy payed project work... It's enough to get by, but noy enough to LIVE.
So I file like I'm withering away with no control over my life - the life that is so precious 'cause it's given only once. I'm trying to persuade myself it will get better in 6 months or so, but it seems such a long wait especially 'cause I've been trapped already for quite some time. Sometimes I can't bear it anymore.
I pray for a good job opportunity, so I can make enough money per month to flee from my domestic hell, to find myself a rented apartment and just be alone and heal my wounds and reinvent myself. I want to be a beautiful, smiling individual as I once was - just before the burdens of adult life came rushing in. And before I gave my love and shared my life with the man hard and unmoving as mountain.
I'll name him Peter Per.
Peter means "rock, stone" and Per is a Scandinavian version for it, so I think it highly appropriate to be his name. I searched the web and found the true name that he deserves. Yes, that's him - hard and cold, silent and static. That's my man. I'll tell you more about him an another occasion - today is not a good day to start digging in the dirt.
The sky weeps outside my window already.
