10-16-2013, 12:25 PM
The most painful state of being is remembering the future, particularly the one you'll never have.
― Søren Kierkegaard
Monday, 10/14
"Why?"
It's a question Sid will be hearing a few times today. The first to ask it is her supervisor, just after the quiet redhead informed her she's applied for a transfer. It seems like such a surprise, this request, this information. No one has harassed her or given her trouble, she seems to get along with everyone well enough, she does her job well and her work is appreciated. There have been no signs of distress or unhappiness, so why?
And Sid tells her that everyone has been very nice, and she appreciates them taking a chance on someone with her nonexistent work history and blah blah blah, but there's an opening at the campus library and she'd like to go there, instead.
"Why?" comes again from the mouth of her guidance counselor, but is much less surprised. When Sid first registered she didn't declare a major, even though the people she worked with knew she'd likely go toward science. So when she comes to make her declaration of the education track, he barely glances her way as he types away on his computer, making whatever changes to her profile need to be made (or sending an email to a friend, or checking Tumblr, or or or, Sid can't see the screen she doesn't know).
And Sid tells him she doesn't know why, but it feels like the right decision, which is true. Mostly.
The real truth is that Sid is good at hiding her hurt when she chooses to be, she's been doing it for years. For weeks she tried. She's gone to all of her classes, she's turned in all her homework on time. She's aced all the tests. She's worked hard. She tried, and now she's tired.
Tired of the ache. Tired of the sadness. Tired of walking around campus with a broken heart that sinks through the floor every time she walks into that office or steps into a classroom. Tired of the cocktail of frustration and regret and sadness that bubbles up every time someone talks to her about school or science or whatever.
And besides, she told Jim that she will let go of her past, that she has, but it's clearly been a weight hanging from her neck. It's time to cut it loose and really let it go. It's time to accept this second chance she doesn't want and be Sid Rhodes instead of that other person, the person she can't be anymore because she won't go back, she won't.
A few months ago she started over at square one, but it was too impossible, too painful. So. In a few weeks she'll move to a different starting point, a different square one, a place where she doesn't know what's coming because it's where she's already been.
And even though it hurts to finally let go, it's like she said to her counselor. It feels like the right decision.
― Søren Kierkegaard
Monday, 10/14
"Why?"
It's a question Sid will be hearing a few times today. The first to ask it is her supervisor, just after the quiet redhead informed her she's applied for a transfer. It seems like such a surprise, this request, this information. No one has harassed her or given her trouble, she seems to get along with everyone well enough, she does her job well and her work is appreciated. There have been no signs of distress or unhappiness, so why?
And Sid tells her that everyone has been very nice, and she appreciates them taking a chance on someone with her nonexistent work history and blah blah blah, but there's an opening at the campus library and she'd like to go there, instead.
"Why?" comes again from the mouth of her guidance counselor, but is much less surprised. When Sid first registered she didn't declare a major, even though the people she worked with knew she'd likely go toward science. So when she comes to make her declaration of the education track, he barely glances her way as he types away on his computer, making whatever changes to her profile need to be made (or sending an email to a friend, or checking Tumblr, or or or, Sid can't see the screen she doesn't know).
And Sid tells him she doesn't know why, but it feels like the right decision, which is true. Mostly.
The real truth is that Sid is good at hiding her hurt when she chooses to be, she's been doing it for years. For weeks she tried. She's gone to all of her classes, she's turned in all her homework on time. She's aced all the tests. She's worked hard. She tried, and now she's tired.
Tired of the ache. Tired of the sadness. Tired of walking around campus with a broken heart that sinks through the floor every time she walks into that office or steps into a classroom. Tired of the cocktail of frustration and regret and sadness that bubbles up every time someone talks to her about school or science or whatever.
And besides, she told Jim that she will let go of her past, that she has, but it's clearly been a weight hanging from her neck. It's time to cut it loose and really let it go. It's time to accept this second chance she doesn't want and be Sid Rhodes instead of that other person, the person she can't be anymore because she won't go back, she won't.
A few months ago she started over at square one, but it was too impossible, too painful. So. In a few weeks she'll move to a different starting point, a different square one, a place where she doesn't know what's coming because it's where she's already been.
And even though it hurts to finally let go, it's like she said to her counselor. It feels like the right decision.