Tales of The Tearful Goodbyes: Part One.

Well, as I imagine a gangsta might say… Sh** just got real… It’s true.

Just got back from hanging out with the bestie this afternoon. We went to lunch at this really neat, trendy new coffee shop and literally just sat there and talked for three hours straight…until we realized that it’d gotten dark and the weather outside had turned real nasty and figured it was probably a good idea to bring the little catch up session to a close and head out. She was only 5 minutes from home, but I still had an hour and a half drive back. I knew it was going to be hard, this leaving and moving 900 miles away and all, but honestly, it didn’t feel real until that moment we walked out of the coffee shop and trudged through the snow and sleet to our cars. We told each other to keep in touch, hugged, and said our goodbyes and hurried separately off to the dry, slightly warmer haven of our cars. The moment I pulled out of that parking lost, I lost it. Tears, sobbing…the works. Seriously, it was not pretty. I had to pull over at the rest area next to where I had to get on the Thruway because between my runny mascara, tears, and the blizzard-like white-out driving conditions, I couldn’t hardly see a thing.

I nearly called my sister–who had decided to stay at my grams for the night rather than take any chances or risk by driving back home on the icy roads with the twins–to talk me down. I was in “full-blown near-panic-attack, crying my eyes out, a million doubts racing through my head” mode and right then, I needed one thing: I  needed to hear someone tell me that it was going to be okay. As much as I love, respect, and trust my sister and how close we’ve gotten in this past year, I just couldn’t bring myself to turn to her. For starters, I knew that she’d be there with my whole family right there with her, and that they’d immediately go red alert on me if I called them up crying. Not only that, but they’re also the last ones I’d want to share my doubts with this move with. They’d just get all comforting and try to convince me to change my mind and stay…and I can’t do that. I’m the one that made this decision to move. It was all my crazy idea…and they’ve been against it from the beginning. If I stay, it’d be the equivalent of feeling defeat and the epitome of failure. I’ve had so many failures over the years and have humiliated myself enough because of those public failures. I want this time to be different. Hell, I need this time to be different. This time, I’m determined to follow-through. No matter what. Granted, it might not work out–that’s totally possible–but at least I’ll have the satisfaction and assurance of knowing that I followed it through…and more importantly, that I tried. I want to prove them wrong. Hell, I just want to prove it to myself.

So, instead, I called up Ryan (my best guy friend who was supposed to move to Nashville with me but then I nixed those plans and he’s now living back in Texas) and the moment he answered, I literally just said “tell me I’m going to be okay and that I’m doing the right thing”. He was on a break from work and didn’t have a lot of time to talk, but he was so nice and understanding and we talked for like a good 15 minutes or so. Well…that is, he talked and I listened…in between the occasional sob-hiccup, “I know, you’re right”. He was really honest and told me how he felt those 8-ish years ago when he left the area and moved out to Dallas. Never in a million years would I have expected him to delve that deep with me. I mean, we’ve always had this snarky, comedic friendship where we pretty much just crack jokes with each other…which is great. But tonight, I really needed more. I can’t even relay into words how grateful–albeit surprised–I felt to have him for a friend in that moment. He really stepped up today. And I love him for it. He was painfully honest and warned me that yes, this is going to be one of the biggest and hardest things I’ll have ever had to do…but that it would eventually–hopefully–be one of the best I might ever make. He asked me for what my motive behind the move actually is and I couldn’t give him a straight answer. And that’s because–if we’re being honest–I’m really not sure what my reason for it actually are. Not really. That is, and to clarify, there isn’t just one reason…there’s several. I guess in part, at least, it’s this innate assertion of independence. I feel like it’s time–well past time, in fact–that I get out in the world and make something of myself. That I make a life for myself that’s the result of my construction and not someone else’s. One that will truly bring me a whole-ness, as well as–if not more importantly–genuine happiness. Then there’s my craving-like ambition and need to achieve success. Naturally, I think we all want that…to succeed, to become an active, contributing participant in society. I want that successful career that, if luck would let it–and if this were a perfect world–makes me feel good about myself…and is something I truly get enjoyment out of. Though a little idealistic and fantastical that may be, it’s what I want. The majority of it, however, is that I’m desperate to get away from everything. I wish I could say that it’s not about me trying to run away from things…because I’d be lying if I did. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but it’s true. I am kind of doing it to run and get away from things…my old life, my regret-riddled past, the painful memories, the searing reminders and bleeding remnants of a life gone wrong….honestly, I do want to hide from it all. I want a fresh start. A do-over. A chance to do this “living” thing right this time around. I think I deserve it…and I know for certain that I’ve earned it.

I’m not sure what I was expecting would happen or how it would feel…but I certainly didn’t expect it to be this hard. I wasn’t expecting to feel this damn conflicted, but I am. It’s killing me to have to walk away like this but I have to believe the same as Ryan, that this is the right thing to do. Fortunately, it helps to know that I’m not exaggerating here and that it’s perfectly normal for me to have these doubts…and that I’m not the only one who has gone through this and struggled. He admitted that he felt exactly as I’m feeling myself right now when he first moved to Texas…that he was scared shi*tless, all the same. Which brings us to the main point here…which is how terrified I am. I’m scared of the whole damn thing. The leaving my family and friends, the moving 900 miles away from everything I’ve ever known, the not-knowing or having anyone there with me, the fear of failure and the unknown…and ironic though it might be, the fear of success and loving it more than I do here. That’s a big one for me. It makes no sense I realize, but I’m terrified that I’ll fall in love completely with the city and the people and my life there that I’ll never want to leave. The thought of becoming so disconnected from my family and friends here on account of my hard-earned happiness. I can’t explain it, but I have this feeling that everything is about to change–and I don’t mean in the typical, “yeah I’m moving to another state and completely different environment” kind of way. It’s more of a “your whole world is about to be life-changingly altered and nothing will ever be the same again” kind of way. It’s weird. I’m terrified, and yet at the very same time I’ve never wanted something as badly or ever as deeply as I want this. I know…it’s confusing, right? Yeah.

I think I have to believe that it’s supposed to be this hard. It’s supposed to hurt. After all, isn’t that what makes it worth it? I think it does. That realization notwithstanding, it doesn’t make doing this any easier. This is what it means to be an adult, I guess. You have to make hard decisions and take risks, sometimes completely on faith alone, with no reassurance whatsoever that you’ll land on your feet in the end. It sucks, but I can’t have it both ways. I can’t have what I want and what’s the best thing for me. It’s one or the other. It sucks, but that’s life. I guess I just have to hold on to something Ryan said earlier…which is that if Erin and I are truly best friends, this move and the miles won’t change that and that the people who genuinely love and care about me will always be here. You have no idea how badly I want to believe that’s true. I want to believe that I won’t lose my best friend…and yet, at the same time, I can’t shake this sick feeling that I already have…

So yeah, I think it’s safe to say that my heart is pretty much in pieces at the moment. The worst part? I’m already a wreck and this is just with the Bestie and I. If I thought saying goodbye to her was hard, I can only imagine how horrible it’s going to be come Friday and its time for me to say my goodbyes to my family. Actually…I take that back. I don’t want to imagine it. This is not going to be pretty…not at all…



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