Responsibility

I woke up this morning and realized that even after a year everything is still the same. This summer doesn’t seem to be taking off in any different direction than the previous two and it’s terrifying. It’s time to leave. If I could at this very moment, I would have everything thrown into a bag, and I would be gone without any goodbyes. I would just take off and disappear. Leave behind everything, including the cell phone, and completely start my life over. Yet what is stopping me? What is holding me back? Responsibility. I was raised not to do anything too irrational. I was raised to make sure I do everything properly and then life will be easier, everything will come to me as it should. This sense of responsibility is so ingrained into my personality that I feel guilty for having spare time.

 I remember sitting on the edge of my bed in a state of unrest, crying until I thought I could cry no more, thinking, “Today I am going to end it all. Oh wait, I have to work tomorrow and I can’t leave them in the lurch. Also that would be such an inconvenience for my roommates to have to find another roommate at such short notice. That would just be irresponsible.”

This place has put me in such a state depression. And maybe I’m just on some high horse, and I have been told it is all about the attitude. I try. I honest to God try to be happy here. Yet it’s hard to be happy in a place where it’s not okay to be gay, and with the gay community that seems to think my standards are prudish. Promiscuity, open relationships, and extreme flamboyance may work for some. I seem to have a more traditional sense about relationships and more reserved view about sexuality. Being gay doesn’t make me any different than anyone else.

The smile that is often times shown is just the shallow customer service smile that I have been trained to put on for the last two years when I feel like reaching across the counter and punching someone in the face. “Remember, the customer isn’t mad at you, they’re just mad.”

So until further notice this is where I am: working on being happy, trying to find a responsible way of leaving Pocatello, even if it involves transferring colleges (after all to me education is very important). I wake up every morning, and pull myself together. I stand in front of the world and put on that smile I know too well and say with in a cheerful tone, “Hi, welcome to Luis’s Personal Hell, how can I help you today?”