The first day of my new life starts today. And man, does it suck. I tossed and turned, felt sick to my stomach, woke with swollen eyelids and eyeballs that feel like they weigh 10lbs each. Today marks a fantastic, yet horrifyingly scary change in my life.
Last night, I told my parents (more specifically my Mom) that I will be leaving the place I've always called home, and moving to the other side of this continent we call the United States, 2,500 miles away, to Atlanta, Georgia.
It's something that I've known for a long time now, something I've talked about at great lengths, and confided in with almost everyone except for my Mom. I was scared to tell her, scared that she wouldn't understand, scared of hurting her, but most of all scared that she would hate me.
She doesn't hate me, but about every other negative emotion applied to last night. Hurt, scared, angry, sad. My mom said that her heart hurt last night, and I know exactly how she feels. My heart hurts too.
It hurts a lot.
But despite the hurt, I think my Mom will eventually understand, and I hope one day even be excited for this change I'm making in my life. It's not going to be easy being away from my Family. I always knew that we were different from other families. Sure we have our minor disagreements from time to time, but we're all so extremely close, and see eachother quite often. We love being around eachother, and I think we all value the time spent with everyone more than the average family.
In short, my family is amazing. I've only witnessed this same thing with one other family, and thats Josh's. And he's experiencing now, what I'm expecting to experience in just 12 short months. Even after living out here for 6 years, it doesn't get easier for him and he still cries as he says his goodbyes. Soon, I will be in his shoes.
But our families aside, there is Josh and I. The seeds of brand new family. And it is this brand new family, a family yet to exist, that I am having to think a lot about lately. What can I provide for them, what kind of childhood memories will they have, how successful will they be, how smart will they be. It's no longer about me and Josh, and his family and my family. It's about them.
I want to give them more than what I can give them out here. Josh and I struggle right now to make ends meet. We live in a one-bedroom apartment. We don't have a yard, or a dog. We don't have neighbors our age that are at the same stage that Josh and I are at. Josh works a job that doesn't allow him to commit to family. I refuse to bring a child into that.
Life in Atlanta has promise, and hope, and possibilities. It also has humid summers and more rain than I'd like to deal with. But I will deal with those things because we can have a house (and a nice one at that), stable jobs, families like us, and the room for our children to grow and explore, and faith in schools to educate them to be strong, independent and successful.
I wish I didn't have to choose. I wish I could choose to be selfish, and continue living happily within close proximity of my family. I wish I could have all that things I want for Josh and I, our children, and still be close to MY family, and HIS family. Unfortunately, I can't have all of those things, and I must make this excruciating sacrifice of moving away from the people I love so very much.
And yet, despite my swollen eyelides, my 10lb eyeballs, and my broken heart, the excitement for something new lingers.
