Douche Lords Come from Near and Far

Ohh boys. You try and claim that you're really not that bad, you don't play games, and it's us girls that are the confusing ones, but then one of you goes and pulls a stunt like this. And you wonder why your gender holds the reputation that it does.
Let me indulge you in the latest tragedy of my pathetic love life.

We're going back a short two days ago to my work shift. There is a ridiculously gorgeous guy at my table - brown eyes, reddish/brown hair, just beautiful. We start talking, and I soon find out he's from Minnesota, of all places. I mildly freak out inside, because guys from the Midwest just seem to be a little less douchey than the ones here (it is true my Midwestern girls - you can find much, much worse), and after we bond over the fact that nothing beats a Christmas in Minnesota and people from home are simply a lot nicer, he asks if I want to meet up with him and some friends in the city the next day, and numbers are exchanged. The only catch - Mr. Minnesota was doing a summer internship on Long Island, and is going back to the Midwest in a week. He mentioned looking for jobs out here once he graduated, but this was basically going to be a no strings attached, one time get together with someone that actually knew where the others' home state was on the map.

Now. Just because I am legitimately going to want feedback, this needs to be detailed: our texting conversation that night, and the next day, verbatim.

Mr. Minnesota: Miss Iowa! How's work going without us?
Me: A lot less fun, what are you guys up to tonight?
Mr. Minnestoa: Just hanging out at our course, it's boring here so we're probably going to bed soon. But I'll keep you updated on tomorrow - it would be cool to see you one last time before I went back home
Me: Yeah, definitely. It sucks you're leaving so soon, but let me know what your plans are for tomorrow
Mr. Minnesota: (By the way, I do know his real name) Will do
(Next day)
Me: Hey, so I'm moving into my new apartment today and I need to pack for my vacation on Monday so I don't think I'm going to have time to go into the city, I'm sorry! But I still want to hang out before you leave, do you work tomorrow?
Mr. Minnesota: Oh, alright. Bummer. (Maybe I should avoid guys that use the word 'bummer'?) When do you work next?
Me: Well I'm actually leaving for Greece on Monday for three weeks, so I have this weekend off
Mr. Minnesota: Oh damn! No, I don't have tomorrow off
Me: What time do you usually get off?
Mr. Minnesota: Probably around 3 or 4
Me: Want to do something after?
Mr. Minnesota: Yeah we could, that would be fun. I'll let you know when I get off tomorrow.
Me: Perfect, sounds good.

And tomorrow? As in today? No call, no text, not even a lame, made up excuse for why he couldn't meet up. Do I not even deserve some sort of courtesy lie anymore? I'm not angry or upset, hell - I'm not even surprised. I'm just confused - yet another douche lord, or am I doing something wrong? Did I sound too desperate? Should I have sounded more desperate? I didn't get in touch with him at all today to see what the hell was up...mistake? It was about the shortest lived love interest I've had to date, with hardly any time for me to fuck things up. Does anyone have the answer for what went on here? I need some honest, male opinion. And just to further support my confusion, the ta-tas were looking ridiculously fabulous when I met him.
What the hell, Mr. Minnesota?
Long Island has enough of a tool population the way it is, they're migrating from the Midwest now, too?

We'll get into my views on relationships and statuses later. I'm too cynical for that chat right now, but for the time being...advice, anyone?
Do any of you ladies have stories similar to Mr. Minnesota? And guys...can you shed any light on the situation? Be brutally honest - I can handle it.

Brown Paper Packages Tied Up with String...

...these are a few of my favorite thingsss. I'm cranky, overwhelmed, and my coffee cup is empty. And I'm just lazy. So I'm going to attempt to bring a little sunshine into this rainy day. Survival pictorial for getting through my hectic days, cue Julie Andrews - these are a few of my favorite things...

This is my secret for keeping my room smelling as good as it does - Febreze Air Freshener and Fabric Spray. I spray it on my clothes, bed linens, and roommates' open doorways when they're not looking. It works wonders.

Starbucks. Instant. On the Go. That's all you need to know.

I wanted practical gifts for Christmas my senior year of high school, knowing I was moving far enough away that homemade meals would not be an option. The George Foreman was received, and the grilled PB&J was born. Along with paninis, grilled cheese, burgers, grilled vegetables, chicken breast, essentially anything your creative, famished little heart desires - a George Foreman is a great option for someone who's lazy and wants a good dinner.

This has been my lifeline lately. Aside from my planet issue mentioned previously, face cleansing towelettes are ideal for working long nights and coming home exhausted. No one wants to spend ten minutes getting ready for bed after a twelve hour shift at the bar, so these towelettes are perfect for still being able to take off your make-up as you're getting in to bed - literally. I have yet to resort to the traveling finger-toothbrush - I hope my laziness doesn't come to that.

Self Explanatory

I'm obsessively organized in general, but having multiple make-up/travel bags keeps me organized and prepared when I don't have the time to actually pack a bag. I usually have a main makeup bag that stays at my apartment, a bag with makeup essentials, deodorant, mini body-spray, hair clip, and pens (necessity for my job) ready to go with me to work, and another bag with my school ID (that I have yet to find), calculator, pens and pencils, and various other things I find useful for entertaining myself with when I get bored in class. Having separate bags always available and ready to go makes it easy to always have what I need, even when I don't have time to think about it.

Mayhem with My Mercury

I have a planet on my face. How is it that I'm two months short of 23 years old, and I still manage to get pimples the size of a jelly bean? Not OK. I tried the old toothpaste trick, and woke up with sticky hair and a minty smelling pillow. Definition of beauty sleep.

With a work schedule from hell and workouts consisting of moving my obnoxious wardrobe from one shoebox room to another, (please remind me next time I move – movers are, in fact, worth the money) I hardly have time, let alone motivation, to do anything else with my day. Which is unfortunate, because there are things to be done. I'd list them, but I doubt you care that much. The only reason why I'm mentioning any of this is because it's affecting my blog posting. I feel as if I'm stuck in limbo in every possible scenario in my life, making it really difficult to concentrate on my writing. And the fact that I can see my planet out of the corner of my eye when I glance down at the keypad doesn't help the situation.

What to do when you don't know what the hell to do with yourself.

Make a list. Write out everything that needs to be done, and when it needs to be done by. You're much more likely to be productive when you can see your “to do” list laid out in front of you.

Call your mom. Or your sister, grandma, boyfriend...anyone you feel can ground you. She's not even aware of it, but just five minutes on the phone with my mama can bring some comfort and reassurance into my day.

Get your needed daily dosage of coffee. Or wine. Or whatever you're doing – it's none of my business. Now is not the time to attempt to cut down on caffeine or any other substance in your life. We'll work on that later.

Avoid mirrors. This may just be a personal preference, but I feel like a beached whale and have an accurately sized model of Mercury on my face. Plus the eyebrows need attention, the sun has slaughtered my hair color, and there's a mysterious purple bruise on my thigh. Mirrors are currently not my friend.

Cut yourself some slack. I haven't been working out consistently, my eating-out bill is a tad high thanks to the roommates' kitchen cleaning habits, and I haven't been able to catch up with friends as often as I'd like. I can't let myself feel guilty for things that are out of my control right now – I just need to carry on and do what needs to be done right now.

Remind yourself that this is temporary. I mentioned in a previous post how it's important to remember that nothing needs to last forever - not if you don't let it. I will be in my new apartment in less than a week, I will finally be on my way to Greece in that same amount of time, and my relationships, workouts, and overall daily normalcy will eventually restore themselves. I just have to keep up with this mayhem until then.

My planet and I need to wrap it up and make our way to work. And you can be sure the iced coffee is coming with us.

Family Away From Home

If there's one event in a girls' adulthood that makes her miss her mama, it's moving. (There are actually countless events, but this is the one occurring at the moment). She may be lacking the muscles needed, but trips to Ikea and Target to pick out furniture, bed linens, and bathroom accessories are just a lot less exciting with my mom half the country away. Sending pictures on my Blackberry and receiving gift cards through the mail can only suffice for so much. I want to actually have my mom here to see me wipe out an entire display of 'As Seen on TV' Ped Eggs with my overstuffed cart at Bed Bath and Beyond. The seester Abby would probably appreciate that one too. I miss my mommy. Wah.

And just for the record - I abandoned ship at Bed Bath and Beyond. Because I did, in fact, knock over an abnormally large display that I still believe jumped out of no where, and I was not about to take responsibility for it. So I hit up a few local stores, put my hair up and fedora on, and hoped I wouldn't be recognized when I went back a few hours later for my intended purchases. True story.

One week and counting until moving/vacation to Greece, and I am proud to report I have made some progress on my to-do-list. I should elaborate on my trip, before you begin to assume I'm actually hoarding thousands of dollars for exotic vacations and pretending I'm financially independent so you won't secretly despise me.
I've mentioned my previous job as an au pair - the reason for moving to Long Island. The job itself was temporary, but the place that was created for me in the family is not. I love those two little boys with my whole heart, and I gained so much from my year with them - the most valuable to me being a big, loud, beautiful, Greek-American family. Going beyond the immediate family I lived with, I was welcomed with open arms into the homes of their aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents - and I know I always will be. They are the most incredibly compassionate and generous people I've met here, and I am blessed to have them in my life. Aside from my boys, the family lives in Brooklyn, so I may not be able to see them as often as I'd like, but they are such an important part of my life here. I was thrilled for my own family to be able to meet them during a visit last summer - they were able to understand the praises I had been singing since meeting them my first weekend on Long Island.

My YiaYia and Papou

My handsome boys

Our faces sum up it all up

Anyways. Enough of my photo bragging. This family of mine has a house in Greece, where they often stay during the summers, and lucky little Leah is going to pop in for a visit. In terms of funding, you must know that I literally took an extra job last school year, as a high school tutor, to pay for this trip. So do not assume I have my daddy's credit card numbers written down somewhere - it took enduring hours and hours of attempting to decipher broken Urdu, deciphering way too many inappropriate Spanish comments, and relentlessly encouraging effort from punky, know-it-all high school students for me to go to Greece. And I know, before even leaving, that it will be beyond worth it.

After all of this Asian invasion living and endless shifts at the bar, getting off of Long Island for a few weeks cannot come soon enough.

Being Drunk Is Not an Excuse

Am I the only one that listens to piano music on Pandora? My page automatically starts with Lorie Line Radio. Surely this is not normal for a 22 year old. My only comfort is that Brittany Haan's Pandora most likely blasts an organ's rendition of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata when she signs in. One of the 483 reasons why I love her.

It's ridiculously humid on Long Island right now, making my typical afternoon run difficult to get through. Or even convince myself to begin. I have access to my school's gym, but I cannot find my student ID for the life of me, and lets be honest, going to the gym is about as thrilling as a visit to the gynecologist. I'd much rather take my run to the scenic outdoors than stare at the white washed cement walls in front of my treadmill. My dad swears he can run twice as far on the treadmill - I start swearing after .2 miles, am excruciatingly bored by .5, and usually call it quits around .8. It's not that difficult, it's just that boring.
The obvious solution to the heat would be to run early in the morning. And now lets refer back to my previous post and confirm that it's just not going to happen. I'm past my days of obsessively running 10 miles in whatever heat the good lord blessed us with that day, so my advice for a lush, late night working, busy bee college student who appreciates a good workout: do what you can.

There are some days I have the time and energy to put in a solid eight miles, and so I do exactly that. For longer runs, I love to go to a more scenic location - a local park, the beach boardwalk...anywhere where I have a little more to take in, with less risk of getting bored. My long runs are my favorite workout, and it is so frustrating when the reason for stopping is because I'm bored - it can be a difficult hurdle for me to overcome. If this is your problem when working out, do the obvious thing, and give yourself some type of entertainment. Whether it's the view around you, or the TV at the gym, address your entertainment issue head on, and give yourself something to focus on.
I obviously don't have the ambition for a long run every day of the week - there are days when there is absolutely no motivation to workout at all. The first step to no motivation is to simply put on your work out clothes. It's much more difficult to put off a workout when you're walking around in gym shorts and running shoes. (Although I will admit to a time when my motivation was so non-existent, I literally laid down on my bed and took a nap after this attempt for ambition - running shoes and all). Once you're physically ready, it will be a lot easier for you to become mentally prepared to workout.

If you're still not in the mood to break a sweat, give yourself 15 minutes. Knowing I always feel better afterwards, I try to talk myself into some form of exercise. You don't necessarily need to put in a four mile run and three sets of 15 reps on every weight machine in order to get a good workout. Hop on the elliptical, jog around the neighborhood, hell - even a walk around the block. Give yourself 15 minutes to get in the mood to workout, and if you're still not feeling it, to hell with it. Chances are though, at this point, you will have put so much effort into actually motivate a workout, you'll want to continue for lasting results.
Another cure to boredom? Mix up your workout. It was a lot easier when I was home and had access to my outdoor shed stocked full of gear, but there are so many different forms of exercise - don't limit yourself to just one or two. Invest in a pair of roller blades, fill up the air in your bicycle tires, or break out your old jump rope. Finding new ways to work out not only brings a little fun into your routine, but it can make you feel like a kid again - and who doesn't like that?

An issue I often face during my day is time to workout - or lack there of. There are days when I hardly have time to pee, much less squeeze in a workout, and that's OK. Rest days are vital to a healthy, active lifestyle, and you should allow yourself at least one per week. If it's not a rest day, and your time is limited, refer back to my golden workout rule: do what you can. Even if it's 20 minutes of cardio, something is always better than nothing. Consistency and quality are most important when it comes to maintaining an exercise routine, so squeeze in whatever you can find time for.  

Today may be one of those days where I need to lace up my running shoes in order to motivate myself to get out the door. Ever since I stopped validating "I'm lazy", "I'm hungover", or "I'm drunk", as justified excuses to miss a work out, it's been much more difficult to feel OK about skipping them. Damn.

Manic Monday, I Wish it was Sunday

Today was the first day in a while where I've woken up before 10:00. I am truly ashamed. I realize summer is for sleeping in when you're a student, but I have taken this concept to an entirely new level. I need to start setting an alarm clock.
It's Monday, which is justifying why I'm still in bed after over an hour of being awake. Moving day is looming, my room is in shambles, and holyshitIhavesomuchtodothisweek. It is not an easy task to move by yourself. I really should reconsider my chosen single status. Except that it's not happening. Unless prince charming comes along and completely overwhelms me. Or brings me my dream ring wrapped in its little blue box. Then considerations will be made.

It's going to be randoms today, because I'm scatter-brained as it is and I have no earth shattering or enlightening knowledge to even pretend to indulge you in. So my unintelligent, absent-minded randoms for you to waste your time on this dreaded Monday.

1. There are mice in my apartment again. And I may actually be boarder line racist after my living experience here.
2. I did the unthinkable this weekend. I took a drink back because it was too strong. And I am truly ashamed. In my defense, they poured about 8 oz of Captain Mo into my 12 oz pina colada cup, and I had to drive. And once had a very bad night with the Captain.

The Captain has wronged me one too many times

 3. I have found that parking in the lot half a block away keeps me from getting parking tickets (knock on wood). Annoying, and scurry at 3:00 AM, but effective.
4. The most incredibly agitating line a guy can use on me - "I've never met a girl like you before". No shit Sherlock, probably because you've never met anyone from Iowa before. I've heard it as often as I've heard my own name.
5. Speaking of guys, why are you so hesitant to approach girls? We see you looking, can practically read your lips when you comment to your friend, so why do you stay lurking in the corner? One of life's little mysteries. If you're a guy, and you find yourself in this situation, just go talk to her. Trust me on this one. If you're catching her eye that often, she wants you to come over.
6. With all of the social media options we have today, it's really hard to excuse ignoring your sister's text. Because she sees your tweet three hours later, and then questions your ability to tweet and not text. This was big brother Bogger's lesson learned this weekend.
7. Packages from home still make my day.
8. If you stop cleaning just to test your roommates' contribution, or lack there of, you will only end up with a nasty ass bathroom that you can hardly force yourself to use. Just keep cleaning.
9. I can't wait to move. And then go to Greece. #winning
10. I feel like I need a 10th. But I can't think of any more randoms....I have on lavender nail polish.

I started to apologize for my lack of intelligence and organization in this post, but I'm actually not sorry. Give me a break, it's Monday.

Making Space for No Roommates

Reason #74 of why I should really consider getting a boyfriend - I don't know what the hell is going on with my window AC. I've had a consultation with my father over the phone, but it really didn't do much except encourage me to re-position the unit in a way that prompted a phone call from my landlord, concerned it was going to fall onto the sidewalk two stories below. It sounds like water is dripping in the inside, and it randomly spits out mist along with the cool air coming from the vent. I'm just going to consider it an indoor sprinkler cooling system. It's actually quite convenient after getting in from a long, sweaty run.

Let's talk organization. And I'll give you a glimpse of this monstrosity in my window. To clear up any doubts that I may not be living in as little of a shoebox as I claim, or my dramatic side is coming out when I describe my room - visual evidence. I do, in fact, live in an adorable, cozy, yet suffocating shoebox.

It's hard to imagine what is in this room originally started out as a pile small enough to fit into little Lola to make the drive to New York. I remember a talk I had with my Aunt Lynn about living in New York, and a piece of advice she gave was "Don't have too much stuff, because you're going to be moving around a lot". I should have taken this more seriously.

Now that I'm getting ready to pack Lola up for another trip, thank god only 20 miles away this time, I've started to sort through my belongings. I never realized how much shit I've accumulated over the last year living in this apartment until I forced myself to sit there and justify whether it was worth the move. The random objects have been easy to sort, but the clothes...an on going process. I have literally been sorting over the past month, and there are still cuts to make. The standing clothing rack will not be going into my new apartment, so some things are going to have to go.

You know the rule, "If you haven't worn it in a year, get rid of it"? Well, that rule sucks. My biggest fear: there's a chill in the air this coming autumn, and I go to my closet thinking, "I have the perfect apple green cardigan to go with this navy blue chiffon blouse I'm wearing". I begin shifting through my hangers, more and more desperately as the seconds creep by, until my heart drops as I remember I gave away that perfect cardigan three months before, simply because I hadn't worn it in a year. No. There is no year rule with me. Instead, if I come across a piece I haven't worn in a while, I assess why that is. If it's an extreme style that probably won't come back around for another decade or four, I get rid of it. If it's a classic piece that I love, but simply haven't coordinated into an outfit for a while, such as my apple green cardigan, I keep it.
I'm all for de-cluttering and organization, but my wardrobe is the one area I let cramp my shoebox room style. In order to create more room in my new space, folding more of my tops is going to be mandatory. Thanks to my experience working at Express, I have this skill down to a science, but for those of you that still have mommy do the folding - one of my roommates is here to lend a hand.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZL42UQIjBWg

When I do decide to let something go, I always always donate. Give to a friend, local charity, thrift shop - there are numerous opportunities to donate clothing, so there really is no excuse to actually throw away something you're getting rid of. It not only goes to a great cause, but it helps ease the heartache a little. I hate to let go of my lace turquoise blouse, but knowing someone will appreciate it almost as much as I did makes it a little easier. If that doesn't work, think of the the ways you can fill the new space you are creating. I may not be able to replace my new clothing voids with more clothes, but I will be moving into an apartment with no roommates in sight, and that fact alone is worth letting go of that turquoise blouse.

The Comfort of Date Night

My Asian roommates never cease to amaze me, but this time their ability to disgust hit an all time low. Still groggy and blurry eyed from my beauty sleep, I stumbled into the kitchen to make my coffee, as I do every morning. Along with mountains of curry, white rice, and other freakish looking edibles consuming the kitchen, was an extra little surprise. They left me none other than a dead fish - laying right. in front. of my coffee pot. I have never really understood the concept of "being this close to throwing up" until I lived with these roommates. I was "this close" to throwing up. I don't really need to explain the fact that I don't appreciate being stared at by any form of animal while making my morning coffee - just know that I am literally counting the days until I move out of China town. 21.

I am more than ready to live sans nasty roommates, and though I've wanted to live alone for a while now, there are some things I miss about living with people...people that I love, and have similar cultural habits to my own. It's been so long since I've actually lived in my parents' home, but I still miss the small comforts of living with my family. It wasn't even always about talking - just knowing they were there. I loved Sunday mornings when my dad and I timed breakfast at the same time - silently skimming the paper and draining the coffee pot together. There was something so calming about falling asleep for an afternoon nap on the living room couch, with the muffled sounds of my mom cooking dinner coming from the kitchen. And there was nothing that my siblings most likely secretly loathed more than me crawling into their laps while they were trying to relax, or having to publicly hold my hand or escort me by the arm as if I was some sort of royalty. Which I should be. But what they don't realize is that those small comforts meant the most to me. And they still do. Just the presence of a loved one is a powerful thing. I indulge in every one of these scenarios each time I visit home.

Knowing I am not going to have those moments here, I have learned to create new comforts for myself. When you start a life over a thousand miles from home, you cannot be afraid to do things on your own. It may initially seem awkward and uncomfortable, but you'll find yourself able to appreciate a different kind of comfort - the comfort of being secure by yourself. For example, I am at Panera Bread right now for dinner...obviously alone, or I would be one rude dinner date blogging away as I ate. I used to feel sorry for the people I saw eating alone, assuming they would never voluntarily be in the situation. Depending on the age box, I would mentally categorize them as either a loner with no friends, a crazy cat lady/bird man (childhood neighbor experience), or the last one living in their social group. I don't think I fall into either of the assumed categories, confirming my new found belief that there is no shame in doing things on your own, such as eating out.

I could have called someone to come out with me tonight. Or I could have stayed in and made dinner in my repulsive Asian invaded kitchen. But I chose to go out to eat by myself, because there's something relaxing about sitting next to this picture window, surrounded by my eclectic company, with a soothing jazz saxophone filling in the conversation lulls. Nothing will ever be able to replace family dinners at home, which is by far my favorite comfort when I'm there, but I've found a new way to find my little moments of comfort in New York.  

My bad ass date and myself

 So don't be afraid to go out on a date with yourself.  Browse the shelves of a local book store, take a walk around the neighborhood, or go out for a coffee. It's not only a great mental break from every day life, but you may discover to enjoy something you've never considered before. And once you get over the weird feeling of being alone, you may find spending time with yourself is not as lonely as it sounds.

Brighter, Hopefully Wealthier, Days Ahead.

I had a pretty lengthy post written out and ready to go, but I wasn't quite happy with it...which is why it's been sitting in my editing box for two days. I can never seem to bring myself to hit that 'publish post' button when I'm not completely satisfied. Anyways, I was going to cave into leaving my standards unsatisfied just this once, until this morning when I read one of my regular blog reads. Not only was it relevant to my unpublished post, but it put its' content into a new perspective, a better perspective...one I feel better about publishing.

Life here is not always easy. I've made that clear. There has been a lot to deal with lately, and it's been difficult to keep an optimistic attitude. I appreciate the life lessons learned here, but the satisfaction of 'learning the hard way' wears off quickly, and sometimes I just want to fucking take the easy way out.

I could sit here and bitch to you all day, but it's not going to make anything better. I could rant about parking tickets, disgusting roommates, eating disorders, family struggles, money issues...but what is it going to do for me? At the very least, annoy my readers, along with making you grateful you chose to keep your ass under your parents roof or a college dorm. What I do need to do now is put things into perspective and look at the big picture. It sounds so cliche, and god knows I hate cliches, but it needs to be done. Yes, life here is hard right now, but no one promised me it would be easy. These roommates will be gone in a few weeks, Garden City cops will finally stop nailing me with parking tickets, and hopefully all of my tip money will not continue to support Nassau County. There is no denying I need to deal with situations right now that I'd rather not be in, but all it takes is a matter of dealing with them to improve them. None of this will last forever - not if I don't let it.

A couple of days ago, for the first time in a very long time, I considered what it would be like leaving New York. It was a fleeting thought that came about in an absent minded moment at work, but for just a few minutes, I allowed myself to imagine a life closer to my family, surrounded by familiar sights, where strangers smile and wave and less seems to revolve around money and power. Such a more simple life. But then I brought myself back to reality and remembered that will probably never happen. I don't know if I can ever realistically picture myself back in the Midwest.
One of the most common questions I get asked is why I left home - and how I'm so sure I won't go back. And aside from my amazeballs, incredible, ridiculous, dysfunctional, close knit family who's love and support I will always have, the answer is simple. I don't feel like I belong there. I always felt by staying in the Midwest, I'd be settling, and I think it's pretty understood by now that lowering standards and settling is just not an option for me.

So yes, life here may be difficult right now, but the difficult part of it is temporary. It honestly does make me question whether or not it's worth it at times, but at the end of the day - it always is. Through all of the drama, heartache, and struggle I go through here, there is purpose. I do not stay because I'm stubborn or feel I have something to prove. I don't simply want to call myself a New Yorker, and if I really desired to do so, there are other options for my life outside of New York. To refer back to cliches - I stay because I feel this is where I'm meant to be right now. There's no other way to describe it. I finally feel as if I belong, and no matter the amount of struggle, walking away from this is not an option.

My words of advice to you? Whatever it is you're dealing with, no matter how big or small the battle is - you do have the power to make it temporary. Seek support from friends, family, your higher power...whatever it takes to get you through. Life may not always make sense, and it certainly is not fair, but as long as it's the life you feel you're meant to live, the difficult times will pass, and there will be much better days to come.