“what an exciting adventure you’re going to have!” says everybody.
you smile, nod and agree that you are so excited but so nervous! but in truth, you really don’t know anymore. you have always been so inclined to run—to detach from what doesn’t want you, where you think you don’t belong. but you realize now that you have been trying to run from yourself, not the place. you don’t call anywhere home because you haven’t made one. you don’t stay long enough to love someone, or to let people love you. you think you don’t deserve it — not here, not yet.
and so you just go, thinking maybe you’ll make sense of your mixed-up mind. maybe you’ll find passion and clarity, but somehow, you doubt it. you feel cowardly, not brave, for jumping into the scary and unfamiliar alone. you know that this gives you a false sense of freedom; you have the notion that time in another place will conquer your demons. but the cold, hard truth is that they’ll still be waiting for you until you decide to fight.
you shake your head in disbelief at yourself, because you know. you know everything. but you still go.