run
05.02.06 (6:52 am) [edit]I went to the library of the school that I used to go to; I left the grad program just about a year ago, and I was supposed to have no remorse for it. At least I thought I would not. However, I was sitting down at the cafe today on the way home to Bklyn from Queens where I reside currently with my husband, who had eloped last month after a long drug binge. I felt a pang when I saw all those students studying Greek or math or preparing for some kind of speech for class. I would not have traded this with my disastrous and hopeless life with the man, who now only thinks of how to neglect and get away with me. Why did you get married to begin with, then? Well, I might need to ask myself the same question. This is what I remind myself of whenever the question occurrs to me.
School is somewhere you are dying to get out of once you enrolled, just like when you are home, as if that is the ultimate goal to achieve in your life; to escape from whatever enslaves you that is often family institution. Now I feel like running away again, if only I know to where, or more likely, from what.