Why do you write? Why do I write?
My entire life my writing has been centered around my pain. The diaries little girls keep locked up tight under their pillow fearful that mom will find it while “putting away laundry”. The journals that young women take on after they have forsaken the childish key lock diary. I’ve written in journals of various forms for many many years. I am not one of those consistent writers who chronicles her day in her journal. I write when I have something to say. Actually, I write when I have something inside me that desperately needs to get out or it will rip me apart from the inside out. And generally if that kind of violence is imminent, it is pain that needs to be written out. I still use my journal (about as often as I write on my blog). I use neither nearly enough, especially since writing is a form of sanity and therapy for me.
I never wanted my blog to be rants or diary writings. Strange Little Dreams was not created for that purpose. But tonight I am going to share just a tiny bit of my pain because I desperately need to write it out, and I think, for some reason, I desperately need someone to hear it.
I’m scared. I’m excited. I’m broken hearted. I am leaving the nest. My parents are finally empty-nesting. In 2.5 weeks I am moving 1600 miles from my home to Louisiana. I have never lived more than 50 miles from my home and family. For the past 4 years I have been living with my parents. Waking up and having coffee with them. Watching silly scifi with my dad. And now I’m leaving all that. I hear what everyone says “this will be great for you”, “you will finally find your independence” , “It’s not that hard, I did it when I was 17”. I know this will be an amazing adventure and time of change in my life. I see God’s fingerprints all over it, and know it is his will. None of that leaves me any less afraid. Any less sad. I’m sad that I won’t be here for my niece’s first steps, or her first Halloween costume, or even her first birthday. Yes there are the wonders of skype and other technology, but I can’t hold her through a computer. I’m afraid because my parents are getting older. That is a fear in itself, but not being here . . . some fears need to be left unsaid. I’m just scared and sad to be so far away. I know it’s time. I know this is what needs to happen. I even have faith that this is God’s will. But I am still scared and really really sad.
I love my family more than anything in this world. I am so grateful that God blessed me with such a loving tight-knit family. But it makes big adventures and far away, long term moves difficult to deal with. I guess Skype is going to have to be good enough for now. And I foresee a lot of nights crying myself to sleep. But maybe, as some have suggested, I will be too busy learning new things and exploring new places to notice and then Christmas will be just around the corner. One can hope through the tears.