She believe she could, so she did...not.

It's been almost three months, a quarter of a year, 90ish sunrises and sunsets. And I think I am finally ready to answer your question, that complex, convoluted, hell of a question,...."how are you?". Since, I have been surviving (I wouldn't dare to call it living, I can't be that dishonest to you nor myself) in the states, I have been asked that question from friends near and far, close and acquaintanced, distant family and intimate and everyone else in between. I tend to answer A. Sarcastically: I'm living the dream B. Short: Alright. C. If possible/best case scenario: not reply since it's via text/social media/ any other passive form of modern communication which doesn't necessarily force a response. I find myself feeling very cynical at the moment; people love to hear gossip, people love to hear that others are failing in life more than themselves and hearing those juicy details will only make their lives seem better in comparison. I am trying not to give you some sad pathetic moan when I see you or give you the chance to delve into my soul by divulging personal details since I know it means so little to you and so much to me. I can't do my being that sort of injustice. However, my written words will be a way to shed some kind of light to answer this question. It's the only way I know how. So.... I wanted to be the epitome to that saying "she believe she could...so she did". I wanted to be the damn poster child for that female empowerment propaganda. I was an independent, driven woman who wanted to find meaning and live a fulfilling life which positively impacted those who I met. I wanted a life far away from the fake, spray tanned, pill-popping, capitalist country we so proudly call America. I wanted out. Living there has and will always be an identity mismatch for me. As Larry said on page 74, living there is a betrayal to my soul. I couldn't put that so truthfully and eloquently. So you know what, I did, I did believe I could make it out and could find a way of living that was more of a match. I believed it with every molecule of my being. Not only did I believe but I spent every minute trying to find a way to stay. Countless calls to foreign offices, meetings, interviews, applications, research and more research. Metaphorically, I bled myself dry. That wasn't enough though. So. She. Did. Not. How I am then? I am empty. I am lost. I am, in the most simplest of fashions, not okay. I've lost my drive and a way of life which I loved. On top of that, I met a boy who I love and he's still there and I'm not. I guess what it comes down to: there are two things that can sum up why I am not alright or okay or good or fine or totally awesome, man: I have left my soul and soulmate in a place where I cannot be. It is not just a void, it's so much more than that. A void would mean that just something is missing. To me, everything is missing.