But why?
Why do I always have to be the survivor.
I survived my childhood.
But everyone does that, right?
Nothing too special about me there.
At least on the surface.
I did turn out pretty normal comparatively.
And I beat most of the statistics against me.
I survived moving to Florida.
Not a big deal either on the surface.
I moved when I was 18 (read: very naive & muy stupida)
I didn't have a job.
I had a crappy boyfriend.
He ended up cheating on me a lot.
We were very poor. Very very poor.
I ate lots of spagetti.
I ate lots of Pollo Tropical for $2.86.
And lots of cookies cause they were 5/$1.
But I survived.
I moved out.
I got a car for free.
I survived the heartache, reviving my credit, and making it in a new state where I knew no one before I moved.
A few years later, I moved to NYC.
If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.
I survived again.
I moved back to Florida.
I changed jobs.
I met Roger.
And we thrived.
We were doing great.
I felt like I could finally relax.
I was done being the survivor.
My head was above water.
I had been rescued.
But here I am again.
Against my will.
I survived a really bad car accident.
I survived Roger's death.
I am currently surviving widowhood.
But geez, when do I just get to relax?
When can survival mode end?
When can I just be?
1 comment:
I am very sorry for your loss. Ultimately, you are a survivor, and I applaud your strength. Apparently, as widows we have something wonderful to contribute to others, that's why we're still here. I wish you the best.
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