The edge of my eyes beg to close, and my eyelashes feel like a hundred pounds each. Measurements fly through my head of prices and sales. New sales pitches grabs at the ends of my brain pushing for attention. The past week has consisted of setting up for school, figuring out Pennsylvania's DMV (it's way more complicated than Virginia...), and of course, tea. After being offered a position to work at a local tea store I jumped at the opportunity. I'm more than excited to get back working and it's a chance to meet new people. I walk in to do the final paper work. Afterwards, my new manager smiles and hands me a 200+ page manual. I keep the smile tight on my face and walk to my car. Upon my arrival I sit in the hot air and stare at it. Sixty pages needed to be finished by Monday, today is Friday. I drive home trying to fathom about what in the hell could contain 200 pages other than Grey's Anatomy or The Bible?
Turning the pages I discovered the wonderful world of tea. I don't remember the past two days outside of the manual. Every moment I was awake I was immersed into it, learning different types of tea, memorizing their health benefits, and working on sales pitches. Slowly, I felt passionate about this product and the amazing benefits of it. I laugh as I notice how I moved from something that slowly kills you (Italian food) to basically liquid medicine. Tea has a solution for almost any physical or mental imbalance you might have. But, I'm not trying to sell through my blog, so enough about tea.
I need to register for classes, and reschedule my financial aid meeting because of work, and tons of other things beginning to pile up. My blog went untouched for a week and Facebook views were limited. This new job is taking over my life. It seems horrible, but I smile. See, I'm a workaholic. Working is what I do best. Pushing to perfect my work and become the best I can be is my hobby. Being a workaholic can ruin lives, but when you're young-I don't think there is anything better. Plus, this is exactly what I needed.
Lately, depression has been creeping up my back and into my head. I can't rid it. I've been focusing on my loneliness and my failed relationship that broke apart six months ago. Not even my friends could fill this void that was growing stronger in me. I begin to go insane, checking old emails from him and stalking his Facebook, staring at his pictures, missing him. I've worked so hard to let him go, but my efforts are worthless. I stare at my white walls and dream about being with him again. My mind wonders into a world where I know what he is thinking, if he really is happy, and if he ever thinks of me. His new girlfriend keeps him on a leash shorter and tighter than I did. There is absolutely no way for me to contact him, without her getting it first. Except if I went there, and trust me, I've toyed with that idea more than a hundred times. I miss him, I wish I could fix what I messed up, I wish I could have been right for him like he is right for me. But, now I watch his life through pictures. Far, far away from me he sleeps next to her. He loves her. While I sleep alone, and I love him. My eyes drop from my white walls and back to the manual.
A job allows me to forget these things, at least for the moment. It allows me to focus on myself and build my esteem as I push sales and make managers proud. With all of the free time I had, it was impossible to avoid this depression. Now, I can push it away and I move into a new world. A world that he doesn't know about, a world I wish he was in, but he's not. Even as I write this, I hope somehow he comes across it and he gets the courage to talk to me, even if it makes her mad. My hopes are high while my expectations are low.
He's never far from my mind and he tends to be the body of each tear that falls from my eye. Although I struggle everyday without him, I become stronger each day. Each day I become more independent. Each day I force myself to stand tall and smile, because it isn't the end of the world. It's just a dent in my dreams. And dents can be filled and fixed with time.
The edges of my eyes now tug with tears rather than exhaustion. I look down at the floor and wipe the tears away, wipe him away, at least for tonight. Tonight, I am strong.
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