move on

“You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months over-analyzing a situation; trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could've, would've happened... or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on.”
― Tupac Shakur

and, so, it's time to move on.

i will miss the spring; arkansas has a beautiful spring.

i will miss my apartment - with the stone walls that crumble and shed as the mountain breathes. how many times have i pulled a nugget of the mountain from the puppy's mouth? many, many times. this, the bunker, is the safest place to be when the changeable weather goes sinister. it's not the kind of place for everyone but it's been a lovely place for me.

i will miss the friends i've made. they're quite a collection of quirk and talent and fun and brains. i tend to isolate myself but, whenever i see them, they open their arms to me. then, usually, we laugh.

i will miss my aunt and uncle. having grown up far from them, this time of nearness has been so fulfilling. i hardly see them these days but will miss knowing they're a fifteen-minute drive away.

i look forward to being so close to the ocean again. an hour's drive is manageable when i want to smell the sea or watch the storms come in.

i look forward to the openness and liveliness of a university town - an environment in which i can be myself again. even if it pisses people off.

i look forward to spending more time with family. reconnecting with aunts and uncles and cousins and children of cousins, with my sister, my brother.

i look forward to expanding my life. i've felt it constrict these last couple of years. time to crank it wide open.

it's been a tough decision. generous doses of sleeplessness and anxiety. nothing is certain in life, not much is easy.  regardless, the uncertainty, the constriction can be a poison and there comes a time when you have to decide how life is going to look moving forward. apparently, pretty soon, it looks like a moving truck.