/ˈ(h)wərlˌwind/: an hasty yet passionate affair between two individuals that leaves both in an inebriated and sometimes toxic state.
The story of two people who cross paths and form a union that seems almost unbreakable. It was so pure, so genuine y...
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Some chapters may include flashbacks which are written in italics.
This book is intended for a mature audience. It contains adult themes, coarse language, sexual content and some violence.
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Life after college seemed almost unbearable.
Most days my mind would wander and I'd ponder how I was even surviving in the streets of Queens, New York at this point, or what exactly would it take for me to throw in the towel. I'd ask myself, what will push you to pack up all your belongings, drive back to Chicago and simply give up on this far fetched dream of yours? And yet every time I was left with an answer that was completely unfulfilling. I always told myself it would be the moment I realize that I'm miserable, yet I'm still here. I swore it'd be the day I could barely pay my bills or had a drop of gas in my tank and yet, still here. The deal breaker for sure would be when I surpassed the 'appropriate' time frame to have my shit together, but once again...you bet.
It's been a little over a year; literally two months outside my stupid little time frame since I received the most meaningless object I've ever possessed from New York University, and I have nothing but an anxiety filled nine to five desk job and a bunch of past due Sallie Mae letters to show for it. To make matters worse, I'm not even working in the field I majored in, not that I care to, let alone even dabbling in anything that is related to music and writing: my far fetched dream. I guess this is typical for the average college graduate, but for myself I imagined it to be a bit different. I've always seen more for myself and I suppose that alone was what kept me here, merely hope.
The day that hope disappeared though, so would I.
It's always funny to me when I reminiscence on when I first relocated to New York City. I had my future planned out. There were a list of goals, some more demanding than others that I had written down and let settle in my head of what I wanted for myself. But somewhere between the end of my junior year and that same summer I realized I no longer had a purpose in being in college. I ended up settling on a communications degree after switching between three other majors, and all over the course of two years. In my heart I knew this wasn't what I wanted, but I forced myself to believe it was in order to somewhat feel satisfied with the time I wasted. That seemed to be the only way I could sleep at night and ease all these thoughts of failure I had concocted in my head.
