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  • I don't drink, but I know why people do. Because I know what it is like to crave, yearn for that numbness.

    The image is of a text message I sent myself. (Liar.) The image is of an ongoing dialogue I have with myself. (That's better.)

    To give myself the strength and resolve to be brave enough to leave and try something new.

    To help me rationalize that I would leave the organization but I would never leave the people.

    ... But I *did* leave the people. After all, it was time. It was well past time.

    And how I hated Time for that. And how I hated myself for placating myself by saying that I would always love the people. (That's one of our secrets, isn't it? That we know how Time with its ever-annoying patience can erode love by flooding foible human minds with other events, objects and people.)

    Time is an adversary that can never be overcome. Because Time has no idea that it is an enemy - a fabricated target for all my weak, immature anger and sadness.

    The same self-directed anger and sadness that made me dry heave in the parking lot at a client because I couldn't tell my friend and mentor over the phone that I had to leave my job. That I had to leave him - he who cared for me and my personal development and career growth. (The memory of the Valley's glaring sun, blinding me and drying the moisture from my eyes as I fought back nausea, staring jealously at the lifeless gravel in the parking lot that day still burns.)

    So with the meager strength that logic can muster, I text myself. Because the only way I know how to defeat Time is... I feel nothing.
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