I’m not this person.
I am enjoying it. I have met incredible people. I have learned a lot and I have learned about myself. I have seen sites that you read about in books.
I wanted to travel and explore. I wanted an adventure. I wanted to discover what my soul is about. My hopes and my dreams. I wanted to be alone. Independent woman. Fearless. Risk taker. Free spirit.
I miss Andrew. I miss kissing him and I miss his laugh.
I miss my hometown.
I miss my car.
I miss my friends, I miss dancing on their table and drinking wine.
I miss my family, the farm and the sunset, my nephew and his tiny hands.
I think I want to go home. This makes me feel like a failure. It also makes me feel ok. I am binging and purging again. I am not experiencing all the epiphanies I had expected. And that’s ok. I haven’t opened pandora a box and realized a million things about myself.
I have learned.
I have learned that I love home.
I love My life – no matter how chaotic things had become, no matter how difficult it was, no matter how scary and tragic last year was. All the downfalls make me who I am.
The experiences, my hometown and my tiny room I live in.
Am I disappointed? Yes. But I would be more disappointed in myself if I held up a front just to prove something, just to prove that I am strong enough to do this. While ironically being vulnerable and admitting that I want out is a much stronger move.
I guess I realized that Happy people are generally ones that understand themselves, know what’s important to them, and have made choices based on those priorities.