I don't want to go home anymore

I don't want to go back to Iceland anymore. It feels like a fucking death march. Let's go with my friggin ex away from all of my friends right to the place I never should have gone in the first place. Nothing ever changes except to get worse. To be even more alone, even more disappointed, even more broken-hearted. What am I subjecting my daughter to? Mockery, rejection, isolation? I know that's what I'm setting myself up for. I don't believe any of those beings who said it will turn out well. Every time I take a chance and open myself up it goes wrong. Not only will this not be any different, it will be worse. At least in America I don't have to see it all right there in my face. I get to look away and do my own thing. Trapped on a damn island with nowhere to go when the heartbreaker parade comes through town? Fuck that noise.

I can't do this. Put a gun to my head. I'm not getting on that damn plane. 

I wish I could take the last decade back. Should have jumped off a cliff when I had the chance. 


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