Turmoil

Lately, it just seems like everything in my life is questionable, like there's no part of it I'm totally secure with right now. It's a very uncomfortable feeling. Here's the breakdown:

Love/Relationships: Being apart from Lui is a lot harder than I expected it to be. Not because I miss him too much, but because I feel like I don't miss him enough. It's been really easy to get back into the single mindset, and flirt with everyone I encounter. Which is fun - I always did like flirting, and it's nice to be back in an environment where I'm comfortable doing it. But I feel guilty for enjoying the flirtacious conversations (last night I spent over an hour on the phone with What-If Guy) more than I enjoy talking to Lui lately. Probably because he comes across as this needy little child, always needing reassurance that I still love him and miss him, and giving that reassurance doesn't come as easily as it probably should. I'm sure it'll be better once he gets here (a problem in and of itself, thanks to the tightness of our borders and his needing minor surgery that might set back his arrival date), but for now... I'm tempted to call Piano Man and tell him I finally get it, what he was doing, how easy it is to continue loving one person while constantly becoming infatuated with others. I did say tempted - but then I know he won't answer my call.

Work: The other day, after being faced with the hopelessness of the immigration system and suddenly thinking that maybe this whole marriage is more trouble than it's worth (did I mention that I went so far as to ask Lui if he wanted to call it off?), this thought suddenly hit me full force: am I a writer or a secretary? Well, right now, I'm a secretary, and to what end? This is not my career. I know I said it made sense to do this for a year while we figure out where we want to settle, but why am I wasting my time as a glorified PA? My job is stressful, it's frustrating, it's not actually the mindless copying-and-collating work I was hoping for. And my boss is definitely not James Spader.

One of my dad's friends from church is the director of a local news station. So I went down there the other day, took the tour, asked about broadcast writing, filled out an application with the knowledge that I need some serious training before I could really work in that field... Before I left, my dad's friend told me about himself as a young journalism graduate, and how he didn't care what he did - tv, radio, publications - or what he made, as long as it was in journalism. "Find what excites you," he told me. "And if this isn't it, find what it is, and do that." It wasn't until the next day that I realized I'm just like he was: I don't care what I do, or what I make, as long as I'm writing. And taking a letter doesn't count.

Self: I don't know what it is, but suddenly my nose seems big again, in a way that it hasn't since high school. I hate pictures of myself. I'm unhappy with what I see in the mirror. It probably started with that day out with all my beautiful, put-together friends, but now every time I see a pretty girl, it's like it reinforces my own physical shortcomings.

Friends: I love my friends. There's nothing wrong with them, except I feel like I can't talk to them about any of this. They won't understand why I can't leave my job to look for a better one. They'll either think I'm crazy for questioning my relationship with Lui, or they'll see my questioning as the simple end of it - and nowhere in there will they know what to tell me regarding how to feel better and stop questioning. And, friends being what they are, they will never concede that my nose is too big, or that this-or-that high school girl is prettier than I am; I wouldn't want them to.