My brother will be here in two hours and we're leaving for San Francisco. I'm trying not to think too much about the fact that I'm leaving behind a support system that held me up and helped me survive such a difficult period in my life. The truth is that I'm not "leaving" them, I'm just going to be a little further away. If I think about it too much, I'm afraid I'm going to wuss out and stay behind in this comfy, cozy cocoon.
And the real truth is that I'm ready to leave the nest. I cannot accurately express my love and thanks to my family, a family who knows me well enough to know that I can't stay. I have to get back on my feet, on my own and rebuild my life.
I'm terrified, but at the same time I'm so excited I'm jumping out of my skin. Or that may be the coffee. It feels like the first day of school. What will my apartment look like? What will my neighborhood be like? Where is the nearest coffee shop? Bookstore? How fast can I learn to navigate a different section of the bus system? How can I set up Jack's room to make it perfect for him?
I am so excited. I am terrified. I am strong. I am going to miss Jack like crazy. I am equal parts scared and ready for my new job. My new life. A new chapter in a book that surprised the hell out of me right in the middle of it, but one that is looking better and brighter every day.