“Hello Rena,

I’m sorry to hear about your family situation. Unfortunately, your tuition deposit is non-refundable and you will need to reapply for next year.

Admissions and Financial Aid Assistant “


…the fuck did I do? 

Did I screw up everything? 

…will they want me again? 

Oh Godde… oh godde.. oh godde…


Will I regret all this? Or will I thank myself for it in 20 years? 


There’s no way I would have the BDSM community I have here in Portland. I’m sure there is one there..but smaller. My friends here, I never would have met them if I followed the original plan. I never would have been pulled into this world.. I started talking to Cal literally four days after receiving my acceptance letter from Portland. 

I guess… finally acknowledging such a large side of myself derailed the pre-planned part of my life. Part of me..can’t breathe. I fought so hard in certain ways to be able to acknowledge myself as an artist. To win the right to get lost in work. To run around a studio like I owned the place, bury my hands in clay, and erase my demons with it. 

I don’t have access to a studio right now..and I am not working in the art field. However… I don’t regret meeting Cal at all. I love him dearly for pulling me into this world and starting me on the path to meet Kane, and to meeting others after Kane and I part ways. I needed to go down that path, and I know that. 

I still feel like I’ve been punched in the gut though.. I’ve been curled up in a ball for a while now. I’m sorry to those I’ve been antisocial with. I just.. haven’t had it in me lately. 


I’ve lost my future safety net. 

So…now what? 




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