Sometimes all I really want is an escape hatch.
I want to tear a poster of Farrah Fawcett from the wall of my life and crawl through a hole into another's existence.
I recently left everything behind and took a solo pilgrimage in an effort to find that elusive inner peace. My efforts were seemingly not enough, as it continues remain elusive.
While time away from my responsibilities, medical drama, and everyday stress was pleasant, there was no permanent relief.
I don't honestly believe I expected a permanent change or even a long lasting one. But I would be remiss to say that somewhere in my heart the hope did not exist.
It felt as though the moment my plane touched down the weight that had been lifted from shoulders at the onset of my journey came crashing right down on me with more than just a vengeance. As happy as I was to be home, I couldn't help but feel crushed once I realized it was time to set the wheels back in motion.
Lab work.
CT scan.
Doctor's appointment.
This is my present.
There is no past; there is no future. There's only now.
And quite frankly, "now" sucks a little bit.
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