Since the last post, chronicling a lovely 24-hour long breakdown, a decision has been made.
I can't stay here. I want to. But I can't.
I'm broke. I'm in debt from the difficult few years that C and I had. I have to be out of my apartment at the end of the month, but I can't afford to go anywhere in Toronto. It isn't a possibility anymore - things have come up.
So I'm going home. Back to good (?) ol' St. Catharines.
It's a temporary thing. I'm giving myself a month or two to save all the money I have, get a temp job or bartending job, save more, all the while looking for a job in Toronto.
Gotta get back on my feet.
So I will return.
The sooner I find a good job, the sooner I'll be back. And that'll be the fire under my ass that drives me.
I won't lie, I'm really sad about it. There's a lump in my throat and a sick feeling in my stomach. I made Toronto my home. I don't want to leave all my friends and the people I love.
But some things in life give you no damn choice.
So I'll be back, and better than ever. It's just going to be friggin' hard.
... it feels like another damn breakup.
I'm leaving you in a week, Toronto.
I'll put on a smile and pretend to be happy about it.
But hell. I'm not.