Four weeks ago, I stepped off a plane. It was a flight that was bringing me to hope. I had dreams to chase and I was closer than ever to pinning them down. Had I known then what I was in for, I suspect I never would have gotten off the plane.

They say that which does not kill us makes us stronger. The super-glue and duct tape around my heart are questionable in their integrity and endurance. I am questioning my own ability to get up and keep kicking in the name of the "American Dream" (tm)

My life has not been a terrible one. Most of the heartache I have suffered has been at the end of a blade I was holding myself. Knowing it was sharp, I ran with it...not looking back to regret the choices I make, but embracing the lessons learned. I'm a pretty tough cookie, but these weeks are wearing on me.

I want so badly to stay. To embrace this strange city and the people in it. I feel the daggers at my back at every turn, yet I wish upon each star to find a way to make it happen. When does getting back up after a knock out become sheer stupidity? When is it honorable and when does it simply turn into a lack of sound choices?

My heart is at war with my head. My soul is caught in the crossfire and I have made a deadline for myself.

Two weeks I have to find a job, find a place and develop a plan. I cannot put off my flight home any longer.

In this city that seems to thrive on the blood, sweat and tears of all that manage to survive here, I wonder again if I have what it takes. I have always fought for the things I wanted. Obstacles unseen I go cartwheeling into what I believe in.

So much has let me down. So much has broken me.

Will he break me, too? Do I care? how much faith do I really have left? I fall victim to his words and I KNOW better. Then all the shards of the mirror that has shattered here begin to stick me and fling me back to reality. Reality says, it's just another blade...waiting for the blood of my soul.

In the end, the hopeless romantic in me ignores the warning and presses on into uncharted territory. Logic fading now...Reason falling to the weeds off the path of my sight. For if I do not try, I will never know. Forever doomed to wonder what might have been.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.