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Bitter Girl
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August 8, 2003

Friday. The fog is descending. I'm afraid I'm becoming someone I wouldn't like to have known three years ago.

How is it that I can hold these two separate beings inside of me? The Virgin and the Whore, the Responsible Social Worker and the Fucked-up Kid? The Fool and the World?

It makes no sense.

Here's the scariest thing: I don't know yet where I'll be living in three weeks. So much depends on the decisions of other people.

But really, that was always true before. It's just that now, the illusion that I am the master of my own destiny has been stripped away.

Here I am, almost 30 years old, standing and looking out over the same view. It's not the same place in the road I was ten years ago. I know I am a different person. But I can see that I have reached the same place on the spiral.

Sigh.

The difference, this time, I suppose, is that I have a better sense of my own personal responsibilities.

And how I have failed to live up to them.