Two weeks

I have two weeks left in this country

I have a zillion things to get done – lists half completed before being discarded for more urgent matters

I have a million people cramming for my attention – as if the ticking of the clock has all of a sudden become deafening with my impending departure

I have lost my scheduling and systematic lifestyle – with the knowledge that travel is never structured, and hoping I’ll get used to the recklessness

I’m still waiting to get used to it

I have thousands of song lyrics teasing me in my head without ever fully showing their faces

I miss my cat

I want to change the world, and make a difference, but my exboyfriend told me I’m obnoxious and don’t do enough

I almost believe him

It’s been three days, and already I miss my youth crew. They gave me a bone carving as a leaving gift

I never want to take it off

I’ve suddenly been inundated with offers of part time love – all the promises of satisfaction, without the fulfillment

Or the chance to bathe in the afterglow

I’m learning not to put people on pedestals

I’ve got a to do list the length of my arm, but it’s written in a language I barely understand

How do you pack up a whole life in two weeks?

I want to tell people I love them, but I don’t know how

I want to tell people how thankful I am for them, but I don’t know how

I’m nervous about eating clean and exercising enough in another country – the fat kid inside me is still scared of food

I live my life with the philosophy that what doesn’t challenge you doesn’t change you

The idea of being in the same place in five years time scares the shit out of me

So does the idea of a serious relationship, and actually “growing up” – whatever that means

I want to live 100% in the present, but keep accidentally looking in my rearview mirror and asking myself “what if?”

I’m leaving this country in two weeks

I’m going on an adventure – and the adventure scares the fuck out me

Let’s do this.

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