It's basically come to a point where I need to decide what makes me happy. What makes me enjoy my life and stop being so damn miserable all the time.

All it took was a pair of shoes with wheels bolted to the bottoms.

I put them on, and start pumping my legs around and around and around. Lap after lap, I fell, and I'd get back up, brush my knees off, and give it another go. Learning how to move my hips to the beat of the music and make my legs skate backwards. Learning how to cross one foot in front of the other, and bend at the knees and swing my arms in a way that propels my body forward and around the bend of the rink. Trusting my balance, and my body to keep me steady, and not being afraid to fall.

Suddenly it all made sense.

That last piece, will be quitting my second job, sticking to a more strict budget, and making myself get on the bus for the hour commute to practice several times a week. It'll take blood, sweat, and maybe tears.

but I'm happy doing it. I'm happy wringing sweat out of my bra after 3 hours of pushing myself past the pain and uncomfortableness. Im happy to fall on my ass, and knees and elbows. I'm proud of the bruises. They're battlewounds. They prove that I'm doing it. I'm okay with buying bigger jeans, because the muscles in my calves are growing at a rate I'm not quite used to, yet. I'm doing it, and I'm happy.

And if I'm happy, then it's all worth it, right?

Right.