The Truth Has No Photos

For the last 4 months, John and I have been doing what everyone else in the country has been doing: working and trying to squeeze in as much time to enjoy ourselves (together) as possible. Sometimes it would work out to our benefit, other times it did not. My camera collected dust, he lost the tanline from his surf leash. My freckles disappeared, the truck had less miles driven. Company came and went: Anth, Evan (for the 2nd time this year). Mom+Dad came in. The other Mom+Dad came in with a cousin in tow. For a while, having the bunch of 'yinz' here with us was a little dream of mine. I'd hoped for many months that the group of us would be in Hawaii together so that we wouldn't have to plan another trip for everyone and we could just wing it, tie the knot, call it a day, but still have our parents here with us for it.

But that's where the fun stopped.

If I were to type out a flow chart, the decend went like this: economy>tourism>ownership>accountability>pay. Beginning in January, the newspapers had been reporting that tourism was down 12% from last year; for Hawaii, that's HUGE. The entire island, whether the local kines want to believe it or not, is dependant on tourism and the money that outside people spend. Vacation packages, pineapple coffee mugs, model submarine ships, tshirts with shakas, surfboards, surf everything, bottles of sand that is supposed to be from the North Shore but really isn't (we all know that there is no hot pink sand on Sunset Beach), shave ice, and the 5c deposit on every soda can/bottle you can find - it all started to cost too much for folks to come and visit this paradisaical island. So began the suffering of the local business, one would have to be mighty creative in order to push their product, up the sale. The spa where I work had opened another location (the only Aveda salon in Waikiki) which should have easily increased the client number - but with service price so high and the folks that still don't tip their technicians - our client numbers didn't increase and our technicians started looking for new jobs. The front desk hours were cut, the guy that came to resurface the stone floor was owed $500, you get the picture. Same with John's company. This, that, and the other was making it harder and harder for us to make money and come home to one another, figure out an activity for the day, then to canoodle on the couch in bliss. Instead, we'd grumble and clench our teeth, take out our frustrations from everywhere else on one another, and there you have it. We were starting to realize our unhappiness. WTF?

Something wasn't right. We didn't deserve to be unhappy. Not this early in our relationship, not in this place. It was unfair to ourselves to be so wrapped up in the stresses of our jobs, it was unfair to each other for us to bring these home to one another, and it was more unfair for us to carry them into our daily lives to the point where (no kidding) we barely had anything to talk about. We didn't have days off together, we worked different hours. We were starting to really worry about money. Then like magic, $1600 was taken from John's pay right when his parents left and mine arrived in town. It was the 15th. Rent is due on the 1st. Even with my upcoming paycheck, there was no way we could make rent and make our bills. John's job = dunzo and in turn, so would be our stint in Hawaii.

There you have it. We're coming back to Pittsburgh next week.

Even though it will be temporary and will last only until we figure out the next move, I'm deathly afraid. The talk of the G20 and the terrible lies that it is forcing the city to enact is disgusting. The long-lost practice of wearing shoes will once again be enforced. Hoodies. Jackets. I'm dreading the threat of a scarf.
Moreso than anything, I know that my friends have changed. For the 10months I've been living elsewhere, I've bitten my tongue. Almost everyone has forgotten that I exist. There were, at best, five people that would touch base with me. Its rather perplexing that by slightly mentioning something in a sentence fragment on Faceboook, I've had more inquiries about the "move back" than ever before. Why do you care? Why didn't you care when I left? Why didn't you call or write me back? You're fair weathered sports fans and fair weathered friends, that's how you've presented yourselves. It's obvious to me that you just didn't care, and that really really fucking hurt.

Being with John has been... well, I can't seem to find words. It's just right. My pure opposite blended into just my type. He balances me, challenges me, and loves me back. There's more I can say but it doesn't matter to anyone other than us, really.
Coming clear across the world and leaving the only thing knew behind (just like he did) was, again, another wonderful thing. There has been something magical about this place. The smell, the sounds, the tastes, everything. IT balanced me out, IT challenged me, IT loved me back.

I quit smoking, I tried foods that I'd only seen on TV and otherwise thought were weird or disgusting. I stood on a piece of foam on top of moving water and tried to surf (meanwhile, my skateboard back in Pittsburgh has done nothing but collect dust in the last 12yrs of owning it). I wasn't afraid to go to the gym and lift something a little heavier, that took confidence that I've never had before. I haven't gotten tattooed since January because I just don't know what to do with this mess of blobs on my arm. I haven't had a haircut since the trecherous freak-mullet that was cut into my hair the night before I left Pittsburgh (it wasn't an intentional mullet, and trust me, I've been complaining about how much I hate that it happened since it happened). I don't know what's in style for fashion because I haven't had to care: I wear a bikini, shorts, and tank tops every day. I don't drink anymore, I don't even remember what any of it tastes like nor do I care to remember. I picked up a paintbrush and decided to create something on canvas that I saw inside my head for the first time since I was a sophomore in high school.
I think while I lived in Hawaii, I created the ME that I've always wanted to be.

I don't want to leave here. There's nothing in Pittsburgh for me anymore, other than just the presence of my family and the familiarity of street signs.