It's strange really, to think, that in just a few short weeks, I will be living on my own. I will be far away from home, from my family, from everything comfortable. Three months ago, this didn't scare me as much; I couldn't taste the realness of it all. But now? it is so real. I am moving, moving to be out on my own, to experience life and its details, to pursue my dreams ~ I am moving to live. I graduated high school last year, and usually graduates do that whole moving out in the Fall: they leave to college and are away from comfortable. The fact that I am doing just that a year later doesn't really shake the the fact that I am still entirely young and profusely terrified of change. I am thankful I had this extra year to figure some things out. I don't know ME indefinitely quite yet -- but I hold on to my vivid perception, and plan on fighting to obtain all that my heart bleeds for. Life is so beautiful that way; the more a person lives, the more they learn, and the more they learn -- the more they understand themselves. Yeah, my skin is quaking ~ but it's because I am more and more excited to finally start this adventure. 'I'll walk slow, but I'll be on my way'
This move isn't just me embarking on some early-adult, 'fun' and 'free' adventure -- contrary, it's me saying goodbye. Goodbye to the old, to that girl in white, to the people who held me down, to my ghosts, to my comfort zone, and to being absolutely afraid. This move is a huge transition in my life that I am not taking lightly. So many times, people who move away from this town I live in, end up moving back after a year or so, and I am here to say, that will not be me. I know, I can't foresee what my future entails, but I know it isn't anything normal and in mold.
Yeah, I am leaving, and I don't plan on coming back.
