I know a lot of this is hormones since I just got my period again. But I feel like I've jumped off of a cliff, and am not sure where I'm going to land. In the past month I've broken up for good with my RNR, as evidenced by the fact that he is back together with his ex after trying a couple of times to get me back. I have to move yet again, but this time am faced with the additional complication that I am a temp, leading to landlords looking at me like "Are you kidding me?" despite the fact that I have almost perfect credit. I've taken the leap to being a temp on the promise that the job would be temp to perm, only to find out that some of the temps have been there for 2 years or more.

I know that things are better than they were, and remind myself of that quite often. It still feels like someone stopped my heart when I see my RNR with his ex, though, approaching her the same way he did with me. I still want to cry when I realize that I've fought and clawed my way into my current position, only to realize how much further I have to go before I have something resembling a permanent career. I can't even think about packing one more time, making this the 7th move in three years, and realizing I've gone from a full apartment to barely one room of furniture. I don't even know if I could furnish a one bedroom, even though I know I can't afford one.

I miss A - the only person in the city who I could do anything normal with outside of bar life. I still talk to the bar people I've met over the past year and a half, but I'm feeling increasingly disconnected from that life as work consumes more and more of my waking hours, and have already pretty much figured out that I won't be making friends with anyone at work. Even though I know I'm the same person I've always been, I feel like I'm losing something; a passion for anything outside of my work.

I've already decided I'm not going to be on league anymore. I'm no longer on the e-mail thread with my pool team since I can't access Gmail at work through the firewall. I do nothing on the weekends except sit inside, watch movies and sew, not necessarily because there isn't anything else to do, but because I have no one to do it with and no energy to do it myself. I'm closing down, preparing for the next round of change with moving and the inevitable uncertainty involved with it.

In short, I'm scared. I want nothing more than my RNR to wrap his arms around me and tell me that he'd be there for me, but I know I never even had that when we were together. I know I'll make it through this time again; I'm a survivor in too many ways and over too many times like this to not know that. It doesn't stop me from wishing that I had even one person to take some of my burden right now, though, and in the meantime I'll cry, let the sadness flow through me, then pick myself up and go back to work. I may have leapt off a cliff, but I trust myself enough to know that I can act as my own parachute to ensure a safe landing, wherever and whenever that will be, and start over for the seventh time. Maybe it'll be a lucky seven.