Up until recently, I was ready to get out of here. Ever since high school, really, all I could think about was leaving, moving far away to another country, staying there, and leaving everything here behind. In college, especially leading up to graduation, all I wanted was to get up and go, to move on to the next place.
But then I didn't have a next place to go to, and so now I'm still here.
And even though I still want to go. Even though there is still something in me pulling me outward, as there's always been. I'm afraid to leave. I'm just now realizing that leaving everything behind means really leaving everything behind. Starting over means really starting over. I desperately want out, but I'm not as ready to seize it as I thought I was.
So for now I'm still here with Ma and my dog. I'm going to stay and soak up all the love and warmth that I can, gather all the comfort to hold inside me that I can. Until I'm a little more ready. Until I can trust myself a little more to be alone and do things on my own, to sustain good thoughts and good feelings. I doubt I'll ever be all-the-way ready. Hugh Laurie says you're never completely ready for anything, and the planner in me grudgingly can't deny that. I don't know when it'll be. Hopefully it's soon; as much as I love my two anchors, I know there's nothing substantial for me here. But I guess that's between me and God. We'll see.
In the meantime, at least now I'm a little more ready to stop feeling so guilty about being "stuck" here. Delays shouldn't be as shameful as I've made them out to be.
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