One month to go

A month from now I'd probably be packing suitcases and bidding people farewell. If this were like any of the travels I've made in the past, I would most definitely be thrilled. However, this will be different coz for the first time ever, I would only be holding a one-way ticket. And for the first time as well, I am not excited about leaving.

How could you be when you've got... no clue on when you'd come home, no clue on how you'd live away from the people you love, no clue on how other people would treat you and no clue on how I'd survive working? When I was younger, living elsewhere but here was all I ever thought about. To this day I still see more opportunities outside the country, but now that I am getting closer to fulfilling my dreams the gravity of what I'm going against is finally dawning on me. My only comfort is in knowing that everyone who has left home has experienced this kind of anxiety. I am not alone even though I am, technically.

Unlike this, my past travels went through a series of steps. You pack enough clothes and whatnot for a specified number of days, tell people you would be back on a certain date, spend an identified number of nights outside your home, fly back the day you're supposed to, and come home to normalcy. Everything was laid out and predictable. In this situation however, nothing is.

Should I bring all my clothes or should I just buy them when I get there? What will I tell my very old grandma if she asks if I'd be home for her birthday in May? Will I get by without my favorite blanket and kissing my parents every night before going to bed? Will I be able to spend Christmas with my family in December?


All these questions hit me in the most random moments everyday. And as I try to ponder on these I've discovered not answers but more questions. I am well aware, however, that nothing can be done right now.

One of the greatest threats in human sanity is the loss of stability whether be it in relationships with people or in ways of living. No adjustment or transition has ever been smoothly executed; frequent up and downhills are always expected. But seriously, we can really do nothing. It's just like river rafting where the best way to get through it is to close one's eyes and imagine a more controlled environment, to hold onto whatever it is you can hold onto, to scream as needed, and to pray that everything would go on smoothly. Hopefully, before we even notice, it's done.

Sometimes, I really hate how much of a control freak I really am.