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A new year fraught with possibility, uncertainty, and hope…

It is now the year 2009.

My 2008 was nothing to write home about. It started like any other – it began with me mourning my dead dog and ended with me mourning my dead mother. To say my emotions ran like water out of a faucet is the most futile of understatements. I miss her every day, have had several dreams about her, and am keeping on keeping on the very best way I can, the way she would have wanted me to.

I am thoroughly enjoying my time in Honolulu. My friends/hosts have been truly wonderful and I am having a blast and a half.

As much as I’ve tried to maintain contact consistently with what’s left of my family (father and sister) and the few errant friends I have in Savannah, it’s quite an ordeal. First there’s the time difference – they’re five hours ahead of Honolulu. Second, I have a prepaid cell phone. I should be using one of my friend’s cell phones but recent events have cooled me off on the whole contact thing. The last time I spoke with my father, there was a tone that seemed to emanate from him, one of the whole “okay, gotta run” vibe. And my sister’s firmly ensconced in her own world, busy with work and school.

So the chips have fallen where I knew they would. Precisely the location. I knew in my heart of hearts that once Mom died, these two would retreat to the hallowed halls and walls of their own design, to the makeshift castles they reside in – drawbridge retracted, lights turned off. So with these actions, I have come to an altogether frightening yet slightly exhilarating decision.

My mother was my world. She was my best friend. No one else will ever fill that void. And since she’s no longer around, since everything in Savannah reminds me of her, and since my alleged “family” has not been one in recent months ( thanks for the Christmas card you said you’d send, Dad! Oh, that’s right, I only sent the address I’m currently at TWICE.), Savannah is dead to me. As dead as my mother. As dead as the futile hope that I could ever believe that I would be welcomed with open arms into the meager carrion that now purports to be my family. It’s all a myth, one the Greeks never could have dreamed of assembling.

So when I leave this place, I’m not returning to Savannah. There’s nothing there but memories, sadness, and nothing else. I may return sometime but for now I need a very extended break. I know not where I’ll land – I’m thinking Austin, Texas – – or what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll seek a transfer from Target. Maybe I’ll get a different job. Maybe I’ll get three jobs. Four jobs. Whatever it takes to make it, I’ll do it. If those that state that they love me truly love me, yet never make a concerted effort, a true show of force to make that emotion known, then they’d have done so frequently in these past few months. But no – the same old same old is their modus operandi. Since my time in Savannah and here I’ve been invisible to them. Now it’s time to truly make that a reality by starting over fresh in a new city, with a new outlook, in a new year.

Maybe then they’ll understand my frustration with them. But more than likely, they’ll merely go about their day, their own world swimming about them, like a haze. I’ve always been standing outside of that haze, looking in at them. Now it’s time for them to see a new haze –  the dust I leave behind, as they choke it down and eat it up.

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About blackmarketwit

A blog written by a progressive individual (read: liberal…see, the word’s not evil) living in Anchorage, Alaska.This blog will be the thoughts and impressions I have about the political zeitgeist of our country, indie film, indie rock, books, coffee, television programming, how much I love Netflix, and any and everything in between.

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