The door is still open but where is my heart?

With tears so close to the surface, I almost thought they’d be noticed, I signed the form, thus closing the door on policing forever. The expiration date on this dream had come and gone so when the time finally came for them, I was not in the place that I wanted to be. She was almost a full foot shorter than me, but I immediately noticed her authoritative presence. He said nothing, just stood there with his sidearm in plain view. I was less intimidated by him, than I was her. We talked for a short time, just the girls (was their way). I still signed the form. She asked if the recent uprising of race relations had been the reason for my declining the opportunity, I refuted that as well. I expressed for her MY reasons, as much as they needed to know of MY reasons. I want to be a psychologist. They need not know that I often see (on the news mostly) people being arrested and it is found that they are actually suffering from a mental illness or break of some sort and I would like to help them rather than arrest them.

I hated signing that paper though, she saw that and made a point to bring it to the forefront. She ended the conversation with “if you change you mind by the end of the day, give us a call”.

Having the door ajar with a sidearm preventing it’s closure leaves me with unresolved feelings of ugh. Does this mean the universe is giving me yet another sign that I should proceed with my once desire to be a police officer? or is it the universes way of telling me no matter what jumps out, I should stick to what I want at the moment?

Cartoon Vector Stock

Cartoon Vector Stock


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s