It’s been a month. More than that, actually. And I’m still lost. My savings is slowly being chipped away at and the fear of never accomplishing my ridiculous and glorious dream has set in. There is only one option. To take a risk. I had a plane to catch.
And I didn’t.
Because that wasn’t MY dream. It was a dream created by me, for someone else. Because I was afraid of what I wanted- for myself. But now I’m free. I don’t have a lease. I don’t have a car. Or much of a job. I could leave at any time. I am adventure-ready! But I’m SO not ready.
The time is now. Or maybe next month. Sometime before Christmas. Next year, I swear. Maybe never. This is my anxiety. This is the fear that I must overcome before I can go anywhere. Or maybe not. Maybe the journey is where I find the answers I’m searching for. It almost doesn’t matter anymore what I do. As long as I go.