Love Finds Its Pocket

What was it, Toni wondered, that had produced in her such a mediocre streak—nature, nurture, birth order, astrological sign? Insufficient familial strife to have created an urgent need to slay the dragon and emerge a victorious warrior who wears her battle scars proudly? She just couldn’t put it all together—at times had fleeting glimpses into her composite personal truth, but was never able to fully connect the dots into a cogent theme. Perhaps the person she had become was all she was meant to be; no greatness, no creative talents or skills, no noteworthy ambitions, no grand love affair.
She felt control slipping away as she toyed with making a simple, clean break from the suffocating stagnation that had become her life. The permanence of that solution felt elegant and effective. She would no longer have to suffer the ramifications of her ill-advised romantic choices and as such would ultimately be freeing herself from the indignity of a bitter, lonely existence.
Gene was absolutely correct in his assertion that Toni sought only to fill her void with activities designed to redirect her attention away from how horribly she was feeling about herself. Why it took the better part of a year for her to make that revelation, to own that realization, remained a mystery but once she did, she was able to think clearly again and knew exactly what she needed to do to put her life back on track. She managed to dodge the onslaught of a massive panic attack long enough to compose a pleading text message and hit enter.