This weekend has gone a long way to restoring more of the sanity I so desperately needed. For a few days it was just… me. There was nothing else going on at all and nothing else mattered other then the next page in my book. There was no Holly, no Peter… for the most part, there wasn’t even friends. There was no happiness, pain or sorrow other then the ones written on pages by people who never existed in anything but a wonderful story. Whenever things are bothered me I will always know that if given the chance, one day and one book can make all my problems go away. I can just hide away in that world of magic and fantasy and that is and what always will be what fantasy does to me. It’s been my oldest friend since as long as I can remember fantasy books have brought me happiness, from my mother reading me stories, to the first book I read alone, to the days in elementary school when nobody liked me, to middle and high school when it was my escape from my world’s troubles… to bringing me Harry Potter and all the wonderful people those books have given me including the best friend I’ve ever had and the father who I thought I’d lost when I gave up sports.
And right now as I sit here on my bed… it’s like a glimpse of that feeling I got while I was in Maine this summer. When I knew that no matter how bad things would get, that everything would eventually be ok. That I could handle everything the world threw at me because I’ve always had the resolution that “After every time the sun sets it rises once more the next day”. I will be… ok. I will know that even when my world comes crashing down, I have people there for me. Even now my sister is practically begging me to transfer closer to home because she misses me veiled under reminders of how much cheaper it would be for me. I know I’m loved.
And this is what I knew I needed, why Holly leaving didn’t bother me because I knew we were growing further apart, because I knew that while Holly doesn’t trust me with Peter, I know I can never really trust her with anything ever again. All telling her my secrets has ever brought me was sadness and pain, because Holly truly can’t handle being there for me when she can barely be there for herself sometimes. And you know… that’s ok. Because… I can handle it. I know that even my my head cries out that it’s alone and in pain… I have friends, maybe not here in Chicago, but in California, in Washington, in Texas, in Maine, Connecticut and other parts of Illinois. And I have my family who will always always be there when my times get rough, waiting to tell me the words of “you’re right, and she’s not” when I needed to hear them.
So… I may continue to think about leaving Chicago.
