Time is starting to speed up.  Where before I had months and weeks to say my goodbyes, organize my thoughts, start to understand what was about to happen, now I only have days.  

I’ve had the going away party, I’ve quit my job, I’m starting to say my goodbyes and yet it still feels that I’m floating above it all.

And then all of a sudden I’m left breathless, with the weight of what is about to happen falling onto me like water cascading from a cliff.  I feel it in my shoulders, in my breathing, I’m left speechless.

It happens out of left field. Just yesterday I was driving back from work and I started crying.  Crying out for the security I was about to leave,  to the life I’ve actively cultivated for the past three years.  The energy that it’s taken to create this life, and the energy it’s taken to leave it.  

The greatest fear I have is that moment when I am truly alone.  When the music's died, and it’s like that morning after a really good party and all that’s left is the wreckage of a good time.  And all that’s left is me, on a dirt road, trying to figure out where to go

What will it be like to not wake up every morning and not have a routine? To not drive to work? To not stress about making a 5:45 yoga class?

They say more options doesn’t necessarily mean better options. Never before have I truly understood what that meant.  When I’m out there on the road and there’s nowhere to go but everywhere to get to - what will happen? What road will I pick? Will I be able to trust myself?

I sure hope so.
I guess there’s only one way to find out.

What I’m listening to: Belly of the Deepest Love - Tow’rs

Note: My style of writing is generally a stream of conscious style, these thoughts are my musings, my concerns, my fears. It’s a vulnerable place to put your writing out into a world where everything is edited and critiqued.  I hope you will forgive any stylistic errors as I am representing my own process and not one of dedicated editing.