3 years ago today I left my hometown and everything I had going for me to run willy nilly into a relationship I thought was the end all solution to all of my issues...we left Friday night, december 19th, 2008 and arrived Sunday at around 3am...I still remember that weekend like it was yesterday right down to how little I cared about the spunk in my hair shortly after we got settled in.

Now 3 years later on the day I wound up in my new home, I have to take a plane back to my old home to fae my parents as a failure in the aspect that I ran away for and wrecked the family over in the process...

The stress is kinda starting to get to me...

I wake up for work at 7...its 3 am...and I can't fall asleep to save my soul. Why on earth did I request to open the day before my flight? x.x

Pre-apologies for the depressing journal. My attempts to stay positive have to have their momentary lapses ONCE in a while...