Artichoke Dreams

I am a girl. Girls, especially my kind, make plans. I have plans for the future, a little dream of how things will work out.

So, this morning, when he said that realistically it might not work out…I hung up and wanted to cry.

I was watching my plans fall, piece by piece, like a very ill-built jenga tower. I’m watching it fall and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t move my life around anymore.

I can’t move out of state. I worked hard to get here and I’m not letting that go.

I don’t know what to do. None of this is up to me. And I cannot, just cannot be apart any longer. I don’t know that I’ll last another 3 years. I sometimes question if i can last another 3 months.

I hate depending on other people to decide my life. This is not how I was brought up. This is not what I want to do.