Crash

It all comes crashing down.

 

little bit by little bit.

 

this thought, the realization that in a week’s time, almost exactly, I will be in my new home with E.

 

the amount of emotions and slight sensations of panic that come rushing in when I think about it, is astounding.

 

I want to run around the house giggling like a made woman.  I want to unpack everything and repack it again, just to make sure.  But I know it’s all there, I’ve been packed for over a month now.

 

Maybe I should buy some cedar moth balls.

 

There are one or two items not yet packed, but other than that I’m ready.  tickets are printed, just need to get my boarding pass taken care of next tuesday for the cross country flight and then….

 

man I am not going to get any sleep tuesday night.

 

I have not yet had any doubts of moments of true panic.  I’m sure they will happen.  But I have been researching.  I can get my morning cereal, my afternoon yogurt, and my tasty dinners, not to mention the availability of trusted name brand necessities.

 

I am, I think, as prepared as I can be for this.  But there are those voices starting to creep in, trying to remind me that in the ‘normal’ view of things, what I am doing is completely and totally insane. Nobody normal or sane would do these things.  Who in their right mind would go to New Zealand on the chance of this being that one true love of a lifetime?

 

My answer?  Who wouldn’t go to New Zealand and even farther for the chance of true love?

 

yes, it is highly possible that this is by far the craziest, wildest, most insane thing I’ve done and my considering it makes me even that much stranger in the eyes of the ‘normal’ people and society.

 

And I am ok with that.

 

Bring on the funny looks, the laughter, the shaking heads and the silent disapproval. bring. it. on.

 

Am I worried about it, a little bit.  Am I worried enough to cancel everything and blow what might be my chance to live the life that I have always wanted?  Hell. No.

 

I am going to New Zealand.

 

now if I can just get the butterflies in my stomach to stop turning into pterodactyls every time I type or think or say that, that would be nice.

 

((hahaha I spelled pterodactyls right on the FIRST TRY! I can’t seem to type much else correctly on the first try, but pterodactyls, I can.  God I love my brain some days.)

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