Quit?

I am misunderstood, even by those who understand me most. There are few of them who do understand, but even so there are those gray areas--more abundant in some people, I'd say--that no one can ever quite grasp. I think I have so many confusing twists and turns that even I do not understand. I don't even think I want to understand anymore.

I've decided to stop. I have gotten ahead of myself, miles and miles ahead, and I need to just stop. There is nothing ahead on this road, and certainly nothing ahead on several roads I've attempted to wander down this past confusing year, so I need to reconcile myself to the endlessness of the futility and just quit.

It's funny because I've never been a quitter; I've always persistently pushed forward to succeed in the things that I first set my mind to, but if I've learned anything this year, I've learned that quitting actually DOES have it's place in this world, and it really IS necessary sometimes. So many people just hang endlessly on to things that they need to separate themselves from, and if that's what they want, that's what they get. I don't know everything that I want, but I know a little bit about what I want and what I want is to find it, whatever and wherever it is.

If this is too cryptic, it's because it's supposed to be, and that's okay with me.

I was watching Big Fish tonight and it reminded me, yet again, that all I want is to go back to the dreams that stand out as most important to me. I want to be a writer, I want to fall in love with a dreamer, and I want to spend the rest of my life in stories. I want to be his "girl in the river" to my storyteller, and I want to be in love forever...

And I've discovered that, if it exists, I haven't found it yet. No one has ever loved me so comfortably, so completely, and no one has ever wanted to be with me so much that they just were; there is always a complication, always a difference between the story and its reenactment. If I can't write my own original tale, I'd rather just read someone else's.

I don't want to be a dime novel...

And I don't want to be a fortune in a discarded cookie...

I want to be a whole book, and I want you to be my Fitzgerald.

...whoever you are