I laid in bed next to my girlfriend, zoning in on the pale ceiling. An awkward silence lingered in the darkness as I tried to string together a response. She feels I’m slipping and frankly, I sort of do as well. Yesterday wasn’t a very productive day, and as I put it to her, I’m twirling in place and not progressing forward. From an outside perspective, my situation comes off indolent and somewhat deplorable–I’m unemployed and couch surfing. She does not support it.
I mean, my girlfriend along with a group of other people are demanding a decision: Am I moving to San Francisco? Am I getting a job? What am I doing? With that, I need to make a decision–any decision. An inherent quality of mine is my indecisiveness, and major decisions are that much more difficult. Of course, there’s a variety of factors blended into my final resolution. Regardless, people are waiting–demanding actually–and it appears like the time has come for an answer to be solidified.
I shifted onto my side, facing Porter. I shut my eyes, hoping to drift asleep and delay these decisions another day. I cracked them open. She’s sees me. It’s time. We’re done waiting–myself included.