one more to summer

I cannot get out of here soon enough. I mean, I seriously cannot get out of here soon enough.

You know how sometimes you'll move through life tolerating something? Like, something you think you have to stand because you simply have to and it's not gonna end any time soon so rather than let yourself feel how you really feel about whatever it is, you just steel yourself to the fact that you have to learn to tolerate it because that's ultimately easier and healthier (or so you've decided) for your psyche than walking around bemoaning your never-ending troubles all day long. People do it all the time - with relationships they should have gotten out of years ago but didn't, with friendships they know deep down are no longer functional, with their lifestyle choices, like drugs or weight issues or health issues, and naturally, with jobs they know they should escape - people tolerate less than. People create normalcy around something that doesn't deserved to be normalized in their lives. People let themselves be okay with stuff that isn't okay. Because it's what people do.

But then...you know how sometimes you'll suddenly realize you've been tolerating something that you just don't have to fucking tolerate anymore? Something will click inside you or something will happen to shift life's circumstances around. And suddenly the whole world opens up like a giant oyster and reminds you that you don't have to do, be, live, think, eat, or feel a goddammed thing you don't want to do, be, live, think, eat, or feel.

And when that click or shift finally happens, along comes with it the realization that whatever thing you've been tolerating, whatever thing you've been subgigating yourself for, is actually a lot less worth tolerating than you thought. And your true feelings come rushing forward like a giant wave of salty ocean water. And you remember who you are without this albatross around your neck. And you wonder why the fuck you ever thought it'd be a good idea to stick it out in the first place.

I guess sometimes you have to stick shit out.

And sometimes you're done sticking it out and you have to get outta your own way and let that giant salty ocean water wave knock you down and soak your clothes and tangle your hair and fill your mouth and burn the inside of your nose, so that when the wave receeds back into the sea, you're left standing there, small, insignificant, blinking the sun out of your eyes, grinning, really glad to that you caught the bus to the beach.