I eat an embarrassing amount of 99 cent pizza slices on the sidewalk. Covered in cheap garlic powder. A subway rail broke the other day. We waited underground for over a half hour only to turn around and head back in the direction from which we had departed. I got off at the next stop and transfered and transfered and transfered, five times I transfered, and arrived at school almost three hours after I left my house. Which is only an hour longer than my regular commute. My days are long. The fridge and freezer aren't working and my living situation is "eh". It didn't really stand a chance as I come from the best of the best when it comes to roommates, but it says something when I am the first one to notice the fridge isn't working. I am tired, and always almost-overwhelmed, and remembering what my face looks like with dark circles under my eyes.
There are a hundred promises I made to myself about this year that I have already broken.
But I have kept the most important one - be gentle on yourself.
It has made all the difference.
There are still goofy grins during mid-slice bites and a rush of grateful tears on the third platform of the five transfers. I live in this city. How lucky am I? I somehow managed to get here, rough edges and all. Tired, tired eyes with a lit-up heart. I stumbled my way into this life, a life that finally feels like mine, and if it means shoulders sore from a heavy backpack or half and half sour from a broken fridge, then pass the sour half and half, please.
It's hard to write these days. It's all a gush; it's all a complaint; it's all never quite right. Too much time I don't have passes and I give up looking for that middle ground. For something more than middle ground, something elevated higher than middle ground. Be gentle on yourself. So I am. So I will be. Life is hard. Life is wonderful. Right now, I wouldn't have it any other way.
