Disappointing

Seriously. The highlight of my weekend was the 4 short hours I spent with Eric. You heard me. I flew over 700 miles, and drove 3 hours from Mesa to Safford, only to see him for 4 hours. Once again I broke the G.D. rules and was kicked out early. You'd think I was the criminal. Maybe I am????

I'm just glad it's over. I nearly missed my flight this morning. Let's start with that, and I'll work backwards. UGH. This morning, I woke up early and headed to the airport before 6 am. We were held up in traffic because of a car wreck, so instead of it taking about an hour, it took an hour and a half. When I was dropped off, it was 7:20, and my flight was at 8:05. Allegiant Air has it's own airport in Mesa, it's about half the size of our tiny little airport in Missoula, so it's usually no big deal. WELL. Today was different. Apparently there were 5 outgoing flights within 2 hours, so there was a line of like 500 people. SHIT. I thought I was late last time, when I tried to outsmart the GPS and went the wrong way. Nope, this was worse. I think I'm doomed to miss a flight. I stayed in line for a few minutes and started talking to the people behind me, they were going to Bozeman and told me to cut in line. I was too shy to cut, so the lady I had just met went up to a group of guys and asked if I could jump ahead of them. Strangers are so nice sometimes. I'm such a scaredy cat. They said it was fine and when I told them where I was going, they pointed to the "express line", which I had not seen. Thank GOD! So, I get in that line and they announce that they are closing our flight in 5 minutes. Just in the knick of time, right? Until I went through security. I guess my suitcase full of mexican jewelry was a "red flag", (thank you dad) so they had to search BOTH OF MY BAGS. OH. MY. GOD. I don't have time for this. The flight leaves in less then 15 minutes. As I'm patiently waiting for the security guard to go through my shit, they repeatedly announce my name over the intercom, "Kristal Cowart, you have 3 minutes to get to gate 5". FUCK FUCK FUCK. I'm sorry, but Arizona just hasn't treated me very well this weekend, I'm ready to leave. I don't want to be stuck here..... After an ETERNITY, the guard finally gives me my bags. I'm borderline crying, but trying to keep myself together, since I know how to do that so well. As I ran to the gate, I passed the coffee stand :( Booooooooooo!!!! No time. I'll get it on the plane. When I handed the flight attendant my ticket, he told me that I had 10 more seconds before he was going to close everything down. SHIT SON! What the hell is going on this weekend? I don't have a clue. All I know is it ended about the same way it started, so I'm glad it's over. And they didn't serve coffee on the flight.

Let's rewind to Friday.

So Friday morning, I hop on the plane, leaving the blizzardy Montana weather for sunny Arizona. Things are looking bright. I land without anything crazy happening, my parents pick me up, and we head to Safford. We're all in a good mood, catching up on what's been going on back home for the past few weeks while my parents have been gone. The drive through the "mountains" (if you can call it that) is actually a very pretty drive and we make it to our destination before dark. My dad wasn't feeling well, so my mom and I dropped him off at the hotel and headed to dinner. We went to a local Mexican restaurant that Eric's mom has suggested we try, and the service was so good that we were in and out in less then 20 minutes. I swear. It was kind of funny, since we were trying to waste time. After dinner and a quick stop at Walgreens, we decided to take a drive out to the prison to see what it looks like in the dark. I wanted to know what kind of mileage I was going to be running the next day. You heard me. My completely rational plan, since I was carless, was to pack my running backpack with my running gear and run from the prison to my hotel. I had called the prison earlier in the week to find out if there were lockers that I could use. I remembered there being lockers in the restroom outside of security. They assured me that I could use them for all the items not allowed in to visitation, which is basically anything other then quarters and my ID. My mom and I discovered that I would be running about 8 1/2 miles. That's EASY, except for the fact that I cannot breath through my nose. I had a head cold that I had been trying to fight for a few days, but of course, when I come to visit Eric, I'm sick. I don't think I've been down there to see him where I haven't been sick or super sleep deprived. It's no good, but it's better then not going down there, so I'll take what I can get.

The next morning, we woke up bright and early, around 6, and were headed to the prison by 7. The plan was for my parents to drop me off before they continued onwards to Mexico. I would only have to find my way to the hotel that afternoon (running) and back to the prison the next day. I called the Taxi company the day before and left a message on their answering machine. It wasn't looking hopeful, so I was going to try to make a friend that would be willing to pick me up the next morning. Thank God I know how to make friends easily, which isn't always a good thing, I tend to be a bad judge of character and usually give people the benefit of the doubt until someone screws me over somehow (I trait I inherited from my father). I had my parents wait a minute while I ran inside and secured my stuff in one of the lockers. This is when I ran into my first problem. I suppose I should have caught this as a sign, but I just thought of it as a minor, but annoying, speed bump. They didn't know where the keys were. Awesome. I called ahead of time to make sure that this didn't happen. What is wrong with these imbeciles? I was slightly annoyed, but took a deep breath, I can figure this out. I walked out to where the other visitors where sitting and asked nicely if someone would be willing to let me put my backpack in their trunk. A girl about my age, with a foreign accent, who I later learned was named Jovana, jumped right up and said it was okay if I put it in her car. Thank God. I waved goodbye to my parents and sat down to wait until 8 am, when they allow us in. Only one more hour and I get to see Eric. The long almost three month wait was finally over. I was excited.

Finally. It was time. We went through the same old security. I beeped, but the really mean security guard is gone, so it doesn't matter, it's my bra, no biggie. We were taken into the visitation room, shown where we should sit and I headed straight to the vending machine to hoard the orange juice, something they aren't given in prison. No OJ? Nope. Eric eventually came out, and we set into our usual, now familiar routine. It always takes about an hour to get use to actually being around one another. I find myself becoming shy around a man that I talk to every day on the phone and through e-mails, but in person, it kind of feels like a first date. He told me that I intimidate him, and I"m still trying to figure out how. I'm 5'4", with fake blond hair, half his size. I'm scary. lol. We ate some delicious vending machine food and played scrabble, where I mercilessly kicked his ass. He helps me, so I guess he is the winner, but I'll claim it. At around noon, we took some pictures. It's something that I can hardly handle, since I don't have control of the camera, but Eric looks forward to them, so I do it for him. They'll be developed and given to him in a few weeks and I know that will make his day, so it's worth it. We sat back down, and ate some more food (see why I don't mind running the nearly 9 miles??) and about the time we were finishing up, a short gray haired man called Eric up to the desk. It was the same man who was absolutely no help early with the locker keys. I guess he is some sort of authority. I've never seen him prior to this day, or at least, never took notice.

Eric looked at me, and I asked him what they wanted, he had no idea. We had purposefully been on our best behavior because my dad was coming to visit the next day, we didn't want the guards to have any reason to cancel our visit. As I sat in my chair I began to feel uncomfortable. I could tell that they were arguing about something. I eventually stood up, to see if I could interject and the little female guard, who always picks on Eric, told me to sit down. I did what she said. I have no idea if she really has that much authority over me, but I've heard rumors of people being permanently kicked out of visitation and I don't want to risk that. Eric eventually came back and sat next to me. He told me that they had evidence that he had touched my ass. WHAT THE HELL? First of all. Who the F cares? Secondly, evidence? I guess when we went up to get our pictures taken, they caught his hand touching me "inappropriately" on video. The sad truth to this, I started it. He was just (without thinking) returning the favor. It's always been a rumor that the photo area is kind of a "safe area" to get away with things, but we weren't thinking about that. I've already been kicked out once. Neither of us wanted that to happen again, especially because my dad was coming the following day. All we care about is seeing each other. Hell yes a conjugal visit would be nice, but we both know this isn't the place. (sorry you had to hear that mom and dad :)

I had to leave. We should have had two more hours that day, but I had to leave. Are you kidding me? Okay. So what the hell was I supposed to do? My bag was in a complete strangers car. As I was escorted out, the little gray haired dude asked me if I had a ride. No. You know why? Because Saffords taxi service SUCKS. OR it's non existent. I had to explain to them that my stuff was in Jovana's car and I needed that before I could leave. This is about the time where I completely lost it. I don't think I've ever been this emotionally broken down in public EVER. I stood in the front lobby, outside security and sobbed while they went back in to get Jovana. Now I was screwing up someone else's visit. Great. Surprisingly she didn't even seem to care. This girl was very happy-go-lucky and I'm glad I found her. She let me get my bag and she said she would give me a ride if I needed one the next day. At least there's tomorrow, right? I was crossing my fingers. We exchanged numbers as we walked back to the building, with the lieutenant following behind us. As we got to the door the lieutenant told me that I couldn't go in with my cellphone. What? Why? Who the hell cares. I just needed to go into the bathroom so I could change. For God's sakes, give me a friggin break here. I know none of you have souls, but I'm just an innocent girl who's fallen for a guy on the other side of the wall. Does that make me less of a person? Come on. I finally had to resort to hiding my cell phone behind the garbage can outside. It was ridiculous. At least if my iphone was taken I could find it via gps. lol. I was probably overreacting at the time, but Jesus.

As I went back inside, the one nice guard that I've encountered reminded me that I needed to give her the license number off of my parents car. I suppose I could have just made something up, but I like this woman, and I've seen her a few times, she's been nothing but nice, and treats me like an equal and not like a criminal, so I don't mind doing what she asks. She walked outside with me so I could get my phone to call my parents and that's when I broke down. Sobbing. This is the point where I start to question myself. Is this worth it? Is this man really worth all of this torment, this heartache? I feel like nothing we do will ever be "right" in their eyes (the guards who seem to HATE us). I told Eric before we parted, that it was inevitable, they were going to find SOMETHING wrong. No matter what. The nice guard patiently waited while I lost it and told me she wished she could do something about it, but it was out of her control (I knew that). She started to tell me about the Mexican man that was sitting on the bench right outside of security and how his family had traveled from Mexico to see one of the inmates, another family member, that they hadn't seen in years, and he hadn't filled out the visitation form that you need to send in weeks before you come to visit, so he wasn't allowed in. I'm not sure if she was trying to make me feel better, but it was comforting to know that SOMEONE had a little compassion. Thank you, Miss Security guard who's name I do not know.

I eventually got myself changed into my running clothes. I bid the security guard farewell and told her I had some much needed anger that I needed to run off, and I headed down the road. Once again, running came to the rescue. How many times do I need to repeat myself. I think running is saving my sanity. As I ran down the highway (yes, highway, but it was a two lane and only about half of it didn't have sidewalks), I began to release all the days frustrations. They can kick me down. Over and over. I'm sorry, but I'm not ready to admit defeat, and as long as Eric is where he is, I'm going to stay strong. Somehow, the worse the situation, the stronger I become. By the time Eric called, I was five miles into my run, and my head was once again on straight.

"Tell me some good news." I begged him, as I slowed down to a walk.

Unfortunately there was none. Not only had our visit ended early that day, but I would not be allowed to return on Sunday, nor would my father be allowed to go visit. The weekend was ruined. I was internally devastated, but that's the last thing he needed to hear. I could tell that he was worried that perhaps what had happened would ruin our relationship. He was so wrong. There is nothing those guards can do to me to make me love him any less. No one will ever know what the entirety of how he's changed my life, with just words. No one will know except the two of us, which is fine, it's nobody else's business. For him to even consider that I would think about not returning to see him. He is so wrong. We do this for each other, pick each other up when one of us is down. He's done it time and time again for me, when I've been at my very worst, it was my time to return the favor.

What I'm worried about is this affecting his mother's visit, next month. She hasn't seen her son in over a year and wasn't even sure she'd be able to make a trip down there until recently, and now that might be completely ruined, because of me. It's really no one's fault, unfortunately it's human nature to want to touch someone you love, especially when you're not allowed. Eric had to make a statement when he was getting the equivelant to being "written up" (prison term "given a shot") and he admitted to what he was accused of and said he was sorry, but he missed me and he didn't even realize he was doing it, which was true. I can't tell you how many time's I've had the natural desire to lean in and give him a kiss, only to realize that I can't. The things you take for granted! I never thought I'd ever be in a position like this, where there were certain things that you cannot do. We both feel robbed of something, a little bit of time together, to make the distance not seem so far, but I know we will get through this, and hopefully I'll be back there in a couple months.

It's pretty amazing what little things I look forward too these days. There are certain things that I want and cannot have. I can't be with the one I want WHEN I want, I have to settle on these short visits. I look forward to holding his hand and looking him in the eye when we talk. I look forward to being around him for a short period of time. There is just something about this man that makes me believe that he is worth the wait....

Young, Wild and Free!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, perhaps I'm none of these really, but I need to remind myself that this is always an option.  I guess I don't have the choice to become younger, but do I need to act my age?  I certainly am okay with not looking my age.  It's a flattering compliment that I've been getting more and more.  As I was getting ready in the locker room of my gym the other day, there were some high school girls chattering away.  I could see their reflections in the mirror behind my own and I thought to myself, "I'm glad to be me."  A good feeling.  Comfortable in my own skin?  Some days, but that's better than before.  I no longer look in the mirror and loath myself, and I give credit to some sort of inner growth I've accomplished this past year.  It will always be a work in progress.....  I just gotta keep moving forward.  Moving forward.

Maybe I've put my wild side to rest.  I think the drunkin Kristal with no limits to what she will or will not do is gone.  Dance on the bar, of course drunk Kristal would be all over that, sober Kristal, well, I guess it depends on my mood and how much you pay me.  I might still do some of the silly things that I did when I drank, and I see my shy sober self starting to peel away like a layer of dead skin.  I'm becoming the person I lost years ago.  I've always been an outgoing, outspoken, at times annoying to people, with a laugh that turns heads, but the more I drank and used drugs the more that girl that came out naturally suddenly became locked away until I had my next fix.  It's kind of bizarre to look back at myself and think, "did I really change that much from drinking?"  I would love to contradict myself and say, "no.....  none of that changed me."  But that would be me lying to myself.  My personality flat out changed over the years, where I only felt like I was "fun" when I had a few drinks in me.  Little did I know, I was just becoming an asshole.

Freedom.  So, I don't have total freedom.  I would really like to have some financial freedom, but I did dig myself a bit of a trench this last summer when I went on my 'I'm turning 30, and going a little insane, so let's go on a road trip and not care about money' three week adventure, but when I step back and look at the big picture, it's really all okay.  I have a home for god's sake, and thankfully my loan is for about half of what it's actually worth.  I'm luckier then I'd like to admit most days.  Todays one of those days where I will openly admit that, yes, I am blessed.  I was raised in a loving family, who is close.  I mean CLOSE.  Tell me of anyone else you know who lives next door to their parents AND works along side them.  I'm grateful for that.  Who knows what my life would be like if I didn't have such hard working parents.  They were able to support me when I went to college, they've helped me with my house, they even loaned me money so I could purchase "white falcon".  Without them, who knows.  I chose not to question that.  Family is important.

I'm thinking about my family with nervous anticipation to how the next few days are going to go....  I'm currently on a plane heading down to Arizona for the weekend.  Goodbye cold Montana, hello sunny 70 degree weather!  I have a friggin cold, but I have a feeling that as soon as I feel the warm air, I'll be magically healed, maybe not, but I'm hoping so.  My parents are picking me up from the airport and we are headed straight for Safford to see Eric.  You see, I still have my provisional license and I still am not supposed to be driving.  Boooooooooooo!!!!!  I feel like I'm 14 again and eagerly waiting for my 15th birthday so I can legally drive.  The good news is, my dad is only coming in on Sunday, for a short visit.  Then there is the bad news.  I'm left without a car, ten miles from town.  hmmmmmmmm.  How is this going to go?  I have no idea.  I had big dreams of making my workout for the weekend be a ten mile run from the prison back to the hotel, but now that I have a cold....  I dunno.  I might have to depend on the one and only cab service in the area named Hollywood Taxi.  I'm not sure what to think about that.

I guess we will just have to wait and see.  Either way, it's been way too long since my last visit.  I vow to never go this long again between seeing him.  I know this is teaching me patience and it's only been like eighty days since I saw him last.  It's just driving this girl nuts....

Thursday Night Ramble

That was kind of weird. I'm sitting here at work, at our motel, with my feet up on the counter, thinking about how I should stay on top of my blogging and my foot bumped my computer. When it woke up it was on this blog posting page, so....... I guess this is what I'm supposed to be doing tonight. What I really want to do is get consumed by the Real World, because it takes no brain power to watch. I just did put this post on pause to watch some twenty four year olds make out, like I care..... I seriously don't watch TV unless I'm here. I don't get it, because I become as obsessed as the rest of you when I start to watch.... And there is this rumor that my sister is newly obsessed with Gossip Girl. Really? I've never seen it, so...... No judging.... So where am I today. It was actually sunny out, so that was good. I went for a run, so I feel accomplished. I found this new sweet app for my iphone called MyFitnessPal, which tracks your calories and exercise, it's awesome and I find myself obsessing over that, but also eating better because I'm forced to record every little thing I ate, including the 50 cents I spent at the candy machine. Damn M&M's. Wait... the show is back on. I'll be right back. Okay, thank God that's over! I'll probably get sucked into next weeks episode, because I'll BE HERE! Shoot. Stupid TV. It's controlling my life. So, as I attempt to not waste time on silliness, like reality tv, I've been trying to sort out where I'm headed in my life. Is it weird that I picture myself as a mom someday? Is that too far fetched for a 30 year old to still think like that? I hope not. I was eavesdropping on a conversation in the locker room at the gym, and a woman, who teaches a baby swimming class, was talking about how she had several first time moms in their mid thirties. Sweet. It is possible. I'm not too old, yet.... Now, how do I get a sperm donation from my prisoner? Just fucking with you! Ha! And that's only because I have a friend who keeps teasing me about that. Yeah right. I'm crazy, but please, give me a little credit here. I definitely want to be a mom some day, and it does feel good knowing that I think I'll be ready to be a parent, when the time comes. I also see myself as a published author. I'm throwing that one out there. I know I need to work on developing my writing skills and figure out exactly what it is that I want to write about. Steamy romance novel? lol. Probably not, just sorting out how to start this. Should I go back to school? Would that be to my advantage? I have no idea. I'm just hoping that what is supposed to happen with happen the way that it should. I'll figure it out. I'm surrendering, remember? I'm trying to let things happen, but that can be a little hard for someone who wants immediate gratification.... Something else I'm learning, patience. If that's not what I'm getting out of waiting for the man I want to be with, who may or may not be incarcerated for the next three years, then I must just be crazy. I've never wanted to be with someone so badly, but I know in my heart that we wont be together until I've sorted my life out. I want to prove to myself that I can do a few things. Survive on my own, that's numero uno. Get myself out of the debt I've created and be able to financially do the things I want with the money I've earned. It's a harsh reality, but at least I'm learning this while I'm young and not when I'm fifty. It's a invaluable lesson, learning how to do things on my own, but I'm thankful that I was given this opportunity, There is a reason for all of this. I'm not sure what yet, but I will eventually. I just know it. And that's my ramble.

Surrender

"Change is the essence of life. Be willing to surrender what you are for what you could become"

AND.... I'm back. Not that I was ever gone, but once again I have lost my way. This is a more hypothetical "lost", but for some reason I've written at least three blogs that I either, never finished, never posted or frankly went missing, so here I am trying again. I really want to make a habit of writing more, but I get stuck in this monotony where I don't think anyone would really care what is going on in my life. I am constantly reminded, that for some silly reason, people want to read what I write... so.... here goes a completely unplanned, unorganized blog.

Wish me luck.

My last two, unsuccessful, blogs were about how much I have been crying. For some reason I don't think I'm meant to talk about that too much, so I'm going to try another approach, even though I don't know what that approach might be yet. I had been questioning why I was getting so upset over certain things that were going on in my life involving "the ex". Whether I like it or not, I think I have emotions towards the reality of seeing him with another woman, he was a big part of my life for over ten years.... OR maybe it's the idea that he keeps blatanly lying to my face about things, which DRIVES ME ABSOLUTELY CRAZY. I think it's more the lying then the fact that he's with a woman. That's all I'm going to say on that subject, I "let it go" last week. I have to accept the things I cannot change. The only thing I really wish to change is the fact that I continue to cry over everything.... but that's me. I've always been a cryer, so if it bugs you when occasionally I sob in public, stop staring.

On to bigger and better things.

I woke up yesterday in what I like to call a "dark" mood. Maybe it was the weather.... Montana is now in a new season, I like to call it the beginning of "the very long winter", where it's cold as hell, and gloomy 5 out of the 7 days in a week, or more. Not exactly the happiest place to be, but here we are, for the next least 6 months. I at least have the prospect of going to visit Eric in Arizona soon, thank God, or I might go stir crazy. The weather man said that we have below average lows right now and it should continue through the entirety of our winter. Awesome. I can't wait. I have a hard enough time being happy when the sun is out... This is when I need to remind myself to go for a run.

I'm serious. No matter what mood I'm in, no matter how frustrated I am with my life or how things feel like they just aren't going my way, I go for a run and everything changes. I know I've said this before and I'm probably repeating myself, but I cannot express enough how important it is to find that one thing that will ALWAYS make you feel better. Eric has told me time and time again to go on a run when I'm complaining about hating life and he's right. Sometimes I don't even want to do it, but I've never regretted forcing myself to lace up my shoes and head outside. Rain, sun, snow and ice, life become simple once again.

I can breath!!!!!!!!!

This all comes back around to the idea of surrendering. I've been contemplating my upcoming tattoo that I want to get. My very first tattoo. My father has held it over my sister and I's head for years that he would take us out of the "will" if we were ever to get a tattoo. I respect him for making us think twice, when we were younger. Because of that man I do not have any ridiculous tattoos, and boy did I have some GOOD ideas back when I was eighteen. Thank God my dad had me convinced that I would never become anything in my life, so I'd have to depend on this "will"..... I'm done with that. I'm finished being bossed around and told what to do in every aspect of my life. He can be my "boss" at work, but as far as anything else.... sorry dad. I guess I am thirty... I suppose I should quit wanting my parents to pay for certain things, I am an adult, but I think a part of every parent/child relationship is for them to always pay for your meal.... right? :) I'm trying to be funny mom. I know you are reading this. I do love my parents. I'm just done with the "if you get a tattoo, you lose your inheritance" threat.

I've been very hesitant to get a tattoo (I know, I used my own free will, incredible, right?) but I had a friend, with tattoos, who mentioned how each tattoo he has reminds him of where he was in his life at the time. I like the idea of that and I really feel as if I've made some HUGE changes in my life. Don't worry, Bat-shit-crazy-Kristal isn't around, so she wont be getting a gigantic heart "tramp stamp" with Kristal + Eric = LOVE written across my back, although the thought has crossed my mind. Wouldn't that be a shocker? I'm not getting Eric's prison number tattooed on my inner arm, although the thought of that makes me laugh. It does sound kind of sexy, for like a moment, and then I think, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, who is this girl that has taken over my body??" What am I thinking? And why am I sharing this with god knows who? I guess to keep me honest. Honesty is the best policy.

I'm wandering. Okay. Surrender. Where was I? I have no idea.

At first I was thinking about getting the entire Serenity Prayer

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

-but I didn't like the idea that it's a very prevalent prayer in Alcoholics Anonymous. (side note) I'm refusing to admit that I'm an alcoholic, I don't like that title, okay, "I'm Kristal, and I can't hold my liquor" or "Hi, my name is Kristal and I'm a terrible drunk". Those are more fitting. Hey, I'm just being honest. I realized during my third AA meeting, when a very aggressive woman told me that I needed a sponsor AND I needed to attend 90 meetings in 90 days that I didn't have the problem everyone was trying to convince me that I had.

"My name is Kristal, and I make REALLY bad decisions when I drink." There's another one. These are more fitting, they really are. I did learn allot from the few meetings I attended, but that's not what this blog is about. So, back to the prayer that I liked. I started thinking about what I liked about the prayer. Accepting the things I cannot change. That is my new "mantra". Ask my sister. I've been annoying her with that & every-time I get frustrated with something you hear me say it, and it works! I swear! Or at least I want it to work, so it works. Either way, it works for me. Accepting the things that I cannot change has been HUGE, but as I thought about it, it's been more about me letting go of everything that I know, everything that I'm comfortable with and surrendering myself to let things happen, without reason and suddenly it all falls into place.

That's what happened to me last January. Little did I know, I was starting to surrender. I was in so much emotional pain that I no longer knew where to turn, so I stopped doing what I was doing and let it all go. I surrendered to the fear of the unknown. Now that I've done that, things are ever so slowly starting to happen the way they were supposed to, not how everyone else had planned. So, we will have to just wait and see if I actually get a tattoo in a few weeks. Right now I'm seriously thinking of getting this word, surrender, permanently placed somewhere on my body as a reminder of everything this year has meant to me, everything I've gone through and most of all, what I'm learning about myself. It's no one elses life and for now I'm not sure exactly where my path is headed, but it's a good feeling knowing that I'm at least going in the right direction. One step closer towards my destiny. ;)