I'm Freaking Out

You would think that since I am constantly moving from place to place, moving wouldn't even phase me anymore. However, you could not be more wrong. Hopefully on Thursday, I'll have all of my stuff packed up and ready to go for the last move I will be making for quite some time (I say hopefully because I'm driving down to Texas with my mom and dad in this huge, red, grain truck. Yes, what could be better for 30 hours on the road than to ride in a truck that only goes 50 mph, sounds like an airplane on take-off, and has a 50/50 chance of breaking down somewhere in between Tuscon and El Paso?).

Anyway, I'm freaking out. Actually, freaking out is putting it lightly. My mother has decided that since I won't be moving back home, I have to take EVERYTHING with me. That means that I have to go through boxes and boxes of stuff all the way from the time I was born until now, deciding what is important and what is not. I spend more time looking at all the stuff than actually getting anything done. As a result, I have very little IN the boxes and even less stuff that I have finished going through.

I was thinking that the packing is what is freaking me out. But, perhaps it's something else. It might be the fact that it's an unofficial end to my "childhood". No more running back to mom and dad's house when I'm unemployed or done with my latest adventure. No more place to store my box of high school track medals (which, PS, why on earth did I keep all of?? I mean, what am I going to do with them. They can't be melted down. Believe me, I tried). No more summers of fun in the sun while driving the tractor back and forth in the field.

And, while I am excited to start a new chapter in my life (how cliche is that?), leaving all of this behind is something that I'm struggling to understand. I catch my eyes welling up with tears everytime I think about it. I wish I could explain it or put it into words, but I can't.

How is it possible to be so sad when you're about to do something you know is right?