back to normalcy.

It is difficult to come to terms with things that are long over, possibly more difficult than fresh wounds. When something happens that tears you away from your comfort zone like a tornado, you have to rebuild yourself wherever you land. You can't go back to the way it used to be - you have to take things the way that they are.

It has been over a month, possibly almost two, since everything that happened at work came to an end. It's better now, a better environment for me there. Everyone laughs with me again and talks to me again. I am liked again, I suppose. 

The thing, though: I'm not any better. A lot of times, when I'm talking to Isaias usually, I'll laugh and say, "I'm still bitter." I know he sees some truth in it, but it's not just bitterness and anger that keeps the past on my mind. I am still hurt. I am still sad.

It wasn't just some "shameless work drama" I got involved in that has affected me so deeply. These people were who I considered to be my best friends. I went to Nashville with two of them, stayed in a hotel for the weekend. I loved my job with all of my heart because I thought the people there loved me as much as I loved them. I guess I was wrong.

All it took was Emily's leaving to shake everyone up. Isaias and I tried very hard to make sure it didn't even appear that I was getting special treatment, even making sure I had a couple crappy shifts to keep people from talking. But girls will be girls, I guess. All it took was Emily's leaving to shake everyone up, and the tornado came to my house.

I don't talk about it anymore, but I think about it all the time. No one says anything, I think, because they're embarrassed of the way that they treated me. They're embarrassed that they isolated me, that they talked behind my back without concrete evidence that I'd done anything wrong, and that they lied to each other about me to create an entire web of complete misunderstandings around which their disdain for me was centered. No one else talks about it anymore, so it's no longer acceptable for me to tell them that I am still not okay.

I didn't do anything wrong. I worked hard whenever I was there. I never got better shifts or more hours than anyone else. I never got any say in the things that Isaias did, and I never tried to step on any toes. I just wanted to be kind. I thought that was enough.

It hurts. It still does. It might very well hurt until the day I quit.