Confession

They say confession is good for the soul. Obviously, admitting failures falls into the same category. Well, here's mine; my returning the Florida was a colossal mistake.

My reasons for returning were numerous; the cold, my allergies and asthma, how stark things could be in Connecticut during the dark months, nostalgia and a feeling that maybe I could begin again. Since my return, what I've gotten are jobs with no benefits, less pay, narrow minds, my own weaknesses. My marriage failed, my nerves are shattered, I have been hopelessly human and have seriously strayed. Very little good has come out of my return.

Yet, in the current economic environment, what am I to do? Fate may yet conspire to force a move on me; Florida has high unemployment right now, and chances are very good that I will be joining those ranks before year's end. Where to then?

I don't know. Maybe a return to New England, maybe some place new.
But as long as I stay in Florida, I will go nowhere. Of that I am certain. This was my childhood home, yet instead of being reinvigorated, I feel drained most days. I've never liked the things that make Florida a great place to live. I've never cared for the beach, I don't care for the night club scene, partying doesn't make me feel good (on the contrary; it makes me nervous and uptight). Inside, I am a quiet man, someone who searches his own soul for answers.

The answers are not here. They never were. They are in me. But I am incapable of finding them here.

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