i saw orion tonight for the first time this season. i used to think it
was the coolest thing to stare at the constellations in the nighttime sky, but orion in particular has taken on a new meaning for me. each time i see it now, it reminds me of living back home in the winter/spring of 2002. back when i had just left the outside world, presumably, for the last time. back when i was planning on the purchase of a diamond ring. back on the farm, where the night sky is like no other; black as black can be, but dotted with the brightest stars you have ever seen. it was a time that was very difficult. there were internal struggles over where i should live, what i should be doing with my life, and most importantly, who i should be spending it with (i wrote quite a bit about that, maybe i'll post it in the future.) i'd just moved back home from ithaca, to be with her, and this was supposed to be the last time i ever moved off the farm. i was happy there. family all around. the farm to play on. country life. my girl. what more could i need?
well, aparently a lot more, since i felt so damn isolated up there, especially after we both started having doubts about us being together. i ultimately was driven to moving away from all that i loved so i could get away from what i desperately wanted so much. i want to be married. i want my grandmother to see me married. i want to have a log house in the woods. i want a dog. i want kids. i want a great job. i want love. i had to leave MY life behind so i could somehow find happiness. i'd come so close to what i was looking for, only to find that it was totally FUBAR and i had to leave it all behind. by taking this job in syracuse, it meant the end of my relationship as i knew it, which was so hard but felt like the best thing to do. now i live here in the city, completely out of my element, living for the future that i don't see happening. i have to take this detour here in order to get right back where i started, but i have no idea when i will get there. this past year and a half here has been such a spin cycle for me. i have no sense of time here. literally. before i left home in april of 2002, i would look towards the sky each clear night, scanning for shooting stars, satellites, and of course, orion. on a visit home late that summer, i instinctively looked up, expecting to see the constellation, only to find nothing, as orion had set on the southern horizon many months ago. my brain was still on april time.
all i do in syracuse is work, do household chores, get online, and visit home once a week. i have no social life here. i don't care for city life, even though the convenience is great. i can't play loud music here. i can't change my oil in the driveway here. i can't play the drums here. i can't ride a four wheeler here. i can't play in the garage with my brothers here. i can't help dad with farm chores here. i can't visit grandma here. i can't watch tv late into the night with mom here. i can't give my nieces and nephews jeep rides here.
i want to see the constellations, back home where i belong, with someone i love.
maybe i'll be there sooner than expected--by myself, at least. the GM's have caught wind of my plan B career (troopers) and would like to discuss it tomorrow. great. i have no idea what to expect, but i honestly don't give a shit. all i know is i can safely assume that i have been eliminated from any chance in hell of getting any recognition at the company awards banquet this sunday. someone has no doubt taken a big-ass sharpie and crossed out my name on the nominee list for "senior manager of the year" or "presidential award" or whatever. not that i hold much stock in those awards anyway. whatever, man. just give me a reason to move home and give jeep rides 24/7.