Cloth

Tonight I am on tenterhooks, but, if it is possible, contentedly so. Regardless, I find the idiom apt, because I, like fabric, am set. Stretch me out, I'm malleable, and attached to the implements of change. These recent events in my life -the short-lived time in Chicago, the debt, the women, my many newfound allies, etc. - have fastened me steadfast to the tenter. Not that much of my life isn't reliant on my own action, but the chemicals that work their magic in my head have, if you'll excuse the pun, made up their minds.

Though normally strength-sapping, Summer's heat brought me new vigor, the likes of which I haven't seen since my prosperous little high school life fled these parts. I am fate's phoenix; set me ablaze.

It's strange; being tied to bills and obligations above my head makes me strive to be a different person. I was given something nigh irreconcilable and my happiness drive failed me. It was not okay to wait. To be fair, it never was, but it certainly seemed like obligations were for for others, and that, oh, I'd get them some day. Maybe. It looked like I'd be forever with one foot in a rut, but I became the very rut I was in.

Weeks of solicited change come closer now that Spring has barreled through the equinox with Icarus-esque disregard for the position of the sun. I am a college student again; by this time next week I will have picked my classes. I am employed full-time, a first, and shit work or not, it makes me happy. I have reapplied for one college, and plan on sending out more within the month with the hope of being back in my city by January.


Writing this, I feel dewey-eyed. In the cool air, my heavy lids grow wet for joy. Things are far from over, and I am far from stretched on tenterhooks before I'm dried.

Tear-filled Regards,
Caleb

P.S. vespertine = occurring in the evening