Over the past couple of years, I haven’t felt completely lost all of the time, but—
But for too long—much too long—I have felt adrift. I have been shuffling along, waiting for something, for anything, for anyone, to just give me a sign, to tell me what to do.
The old adage: life is very short. The other: life is very long. Both scare me.
But for the first time in a damn long time, I am excited about my future. I know I will flail about, I will be tired and pissed off and stressed—but, my god, I am moving to a new city. I am starting fresh.
I know so few people here. I know I might be lonely as hell most days. But I still feel hopeful, and I feel excited for the future, and the possibility that it could be fulfilling and stimulating and just…good. And, for me, that is no small thing.
I may very well just fall back in to my old ways. But hope springs eternal—and having hope, feeling that a beautiful future exists out there for you, is no small thing.