Last night I went to sleep crying. This morning I woke up and started crying. Then I made it halfway to school before I started crying. And I was crying because I was trying to think of every possible way to get out of this, to not have to go to this school ever again, because there is some ingrained complex I have that if you can escape it, it has to be better on the other side. The other side is what or of what or where, I do not know. And I was crying because I do not disappoint people, I do not do things wrong, or I have not been in the position in a long time where I could be doing something wrong, because there hasn't been anyone to tell me that I am doing something wrong.
Then as I was sitting at the desk in the back of the room before class started, the door opened, and all those loud kids with all their shirts messed up and yelling about their weekend and sheepishly turning in their projects to the back of the room, face down or up and talking about how they don't like how their project looks. And I couldn't help but smile, and remember that this is about the students. And they are fun, and with all of their idiosyncrasies, they make me happy and they make me have a reason to be driven. Their spirit is a reason not to break, even when you feel broken.
And I was crying because it didn't seem worth it, and I'm still waiting for it to be mentally worth it, at least being here. But, at least there is a reason, a reason that is more important than anything else.