Has it really been since APRIL that I've written a post? Bah, I'm a bad writer. Unless I actually write...then I think I'm at least a decent writer.
So here I am, writing. About what? The logical subject would be my super-upcoming move with Ryan. In two days we pack up our Jeep with the remaining boxes and Christmas presents from this week and drive 10 hours to Greenville, South Carolina, where we'll supposedly be the same people. I'm not quite convinced I'm going to be a human being when I'm there, at least not a recognizable one to my current human beingness. Will I still like drinking tea? Will I still want to be in plays? Will I still write? More accurately, will I write when I'm there since I've written nothing aside from journal entries for the past month? Will I still have a deep, intense, and soul-sucking relationship with Breaking Bad?
Many important questions that can't be answered until we finally freaking move already. It seems like it's been so drawn out, saying goodbye to people all this past year when we didn't even know when we'd actually be moving. But here we are, two days away, and truth be told....I'm ready. I'm so ready.
Not like Ryan or I feel like we're fleeing from the Fort by any means, but we're so ready to be starting over and proving to ourselves that we CAN. I've never lived anywhere outside the Midwest long-term. Sure, I went to Ireland for a few months, but that was for school and I didn't arrange anything other than a, "Here's a ton of money - take care of me! Feed me! Show me where the train is!" and I knew it was for four months and I'd end up back safe at Marmee's house until a new semester at Taylor started. I apparently didn't learn how to fix run-ons in Ireland, either.
It's a true testament to God's healing power that I'm not a writhing ball of anxiety, puddling around the floor and shrieking as mover's pack up our stuff and Ryan calls yet another person about insurance/rent/internet. Five years ago, could I have done this? Hell no. At least, that's how I remember myself. I think I would have survived the move, but hardly enjoyed it. I would've probably called Marmee everyday, or several times a day if this were anything like me moving a whopping 13 miles across town to live on campus as a Freshman, crying that "I don't beloooong here!" Because, now that I'm saner and a crap-ton wiser, even if I don't belong, I'll get over it and make at least five people my friends, convincing myself that I DO belong. Surely people in Greenville like Breaking Bad? If not, we have a problem.
