Anniversary

Today is a bitter pill to swallow. March 8th marks the two-year anniversary of being at my current job. I find it hard to celebrate (or be happy about) any part of it other than the future prospect of a new job and the paychecks that helped feed us. It has been a rough two years, though quick, and there have been periods within the span when I just wanted to hide from everything, escape the bad, escape the good. Start over. I have been tested beyond belief, tired beyond belief, but also blessed beyond belief.

The good certainly outweighs the bad, and thankfully that is what comes to mind regularly. I try to forget the confusion, hurt and disappointment and stay focused on what's ahead of me: Freedom.

I need all of the prayers and encouragement out there. Simply coming to work and sitting here for 8 hours a day has even gotten tough. There are times when I let the pinch of responsibility go, and I clasp the handle of my purse and think about rising and walking down the hall to the elevator. Fleeing. Never turning around to wave goodbye, or even scream. Other times I am fully lost in fantasy of how I will go when given the opportunity to leave for good. Will I make a list of wrongs and post it publicly, will I speak my mind and shout and kick and be escorted out by security guards, or will I go silently and let my absence speak volumes?

It is a very unfortunate thing to have a treasure in your possession and to let it go to waste. To let it fall by the wayside, neglected. Untended crops cannot grow. Cannot find joy in their work, or feel valuable, and capable and worthy. But if, just if, she has a solid-enough head on her shoulders and a bit of conviction, in time she will break through the soil—up and up, roots tearing from dark brown earth, jagged strands of life plunged into limbo, uncertainty, but: fresh air—and move along to a better plot of land.

And once she goes, she will never return, never give a single thought to you and all that happened here.