The Last Quarter of the Moon

Nowadays my only desires involve being by myself.
I force myself into social situations to balance out my worlds:
The real reality, the one I almost lost because of trying to be someone I'm not.
I love my therapist; she's the only one who gets me, I think.
Before I fall in love with someone, like really press the play button, I tend to tell them I think I'm fucking crazy. Usually their response will determine how long we're together.
The longest relationship I've been in was with someone who was a raging alcoholic.
Just like my birth father. Haha, first I wrote bitch father.
He's dying, maybe. He's hooked up to an oxygen tank and a dialysis machine.
I keep thinking maybe I should say something to him, like I forgive him or I hope he's okay.
Those statements are only half true.
I don't give a lot of myself to anyone but the kids.
I call out people who can't get their shit straight, or I treat them like kids.
They should not be getting paid the same rate as me. Call it Aldrin justice.
I'm sick of sitting back and letting things happen that are unfair or unjust and really, I can usually get what I want by calling white people out on their shit.
That's probably the only good thing about living in Boston.
The only good thing.
I am the face of diversity, the only one who will play their games and play it well.
In the end, the kids are the ones who matter the most anyway.
There are so many of them who won't ever get a chance to tell someone they might love that they're fucking crazy.
When I graduate, I'm getting outta here. I'm gonna be international. I don't care how hard it is or how long it takes.
I used to have this image of the future.
It's gone now.
The only thing left is me, in a foreign land, doing work that I like, work that is meaningful, work that will change lives maybe. The most important part of that is work that I like.
It is all about me now.
And it's about damn time.