I started packing tonight.
No, I don't know where I'm going. I've been looking, but haven't quite decided where I want to move to. I need to make a decision soon, but I can be bad at making decisions sometimes. My horoscope read today "You know which direction to go, so go there". Ha! I can't help but think that's a lie. I suppose I'm holding on to the hope that I will catch a break and a decision will be made for me.
I sort of surprised myself though I how emotional I've been packing up these couple dinky boxes, but why I'm sad, I couldn't explicitly tell you. I like my house, I think, and I don't want to leave. So maybe that's it. I like the idea of being comfortable: to an extent anyway. I'm scared of change. Well, hold that thought. It's not the change that's scary so much as the fear that I'll make a wrong decision and end up screwing myself again.
And, I think I'm kind of homesick for a place I'm not even sure exists. I've been searching and searching for that place, but I've yet to find it. I'm starting to lose hope.
Perhaps it's that hopelessness that's the most depressing of all.