It's been one year this month since I moved to Seattle. The weight of what has happened is so heavy today as I walk around cleaning that I can hardly breathe.
I don't know what I thought would happen if I moved here, but I'm glad I'm not leaving, because it hasn't happened yet.
The quiet unraveling of a friendship I never even expected, the dark, shifting feelings of my own self, the job that I wanted so much, now a reality pressing so heavy that I feel paralyzed.
I apply and apply, but the phone doesn't ring. I know its normal. I know it happens, and they've got a lot to do. But if they knew how much was at stake-- if they knew it was the difference between forward and no where at all--
???
I guess if they knew the kind of lunatic I've been this week, crazy with my desire for something pressing and structured in my days, they'd have even less reason to pick up the phone.
I would call you!
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