I'm sort of at that point in my life (and cycle) where I frantically flip flop between being psyched out of my mind about all the crazy changes that are about to happen (read: moving across the country) and being completely terrified and overcome with sadness about leaving this place and, most of all, these people that I love so much. Not to mention just the general inevitable freakout that comes along with packing your life into an SUV that thinks you're going 150mph when you're stopped at a red light.
I get butterflies when I think about pulling out of my driveway -- the one that leads up to the house that I've lived in (minus college) since 8th grade, located in the city I was born in, in the state I've never lived out of. Thinking about all the songs that will play on the ride and the memories that will be made is so incredibly exciting. It makes me giddy. So I've been concentrating on those feelings. The ones where we'll stop at gas stations for Slurpees and beef jerky and sing so loud that it hurts to talk and laugh so hard that we cry.
That way I don't have to think about the other feelings. The ones that give me that nauseous, acidic feeling in the pit of my stomach. The ones that involve my nephews looking older every time I visit and not being able to hug my mom when a boy breaks my heart.
I understand why people don't venture out. I get it. It's scary. Adventures are wonderful in theory and terrifying in execution. I'm ready for this adventure though, and I know it's time. I hope it brings me to great things that make my heart happy, but I'm lucky to know that even if it doesn't, I have a whole mess of people back home that do.