The Next Chapter is Obscured

Have you ever been looking forward to a time in your life only to realize as it approaches that you're terrified of what lies on the other side? Or lived somewhere temporarily only to realize you never want to leave? You've met people you can't imagine not seeing, you've done things that have changed your whole make-up and the vision of what's past where you are now is too hazy to make out.

This is where I find myself now. I have eight weeks until my graduation from college...and I have no idea what happens next. I know I want to write. I know I'd love to work in a bookstore. I know that I want a kitchen where I can actually maybe cook something other than toast. But I have no idea where I'm going. Part of me is exhilarated...and part of me is absolutely terrified.

I've been in school for sixteen years. Sixteen years. That's over a decade and a half. The last time I wasn't in school, Bill Clinton was President, Friends was just starting out, and the internet was just beginning to gain public popularity. No one had ever heard of Myspace or Facebook or blogging. And, oh yeah, I was four. The great thing about being four is no one expects you to have your life figured out.

When I graduated high school, yes the future was a little bit frightening, but I had a plan. I was going to college, where I would get my degree. And I never really got further than that except that I wanted to write. But unless I figure out a way to live off of air, grass, and rain water, I'm going to need an actual source of income.

And really, that's only part of what's scaring me and making me so melancholy when I think about leaving. Because I've come to love the people here. All the people who I've bonded with here, who've changed me. The people who say, "Hey, we're going to do something this weekend. Wanna come with?" The people who know that I will always have a book, know that I can't eat anything, laugh at my absolute lack of personal body warmth.

And I'm going to have to leave them. Yes, I can visit (I'm not being exiled from the town). But it won't be the same as living here. I won't be able to walk two minutes and find a friend to talk to. I won't be able to find out on Tuesday about a party on Wednesday and be able to make it.

I felt this a little bit with people in London. When I had to leave it was saddening. But I knew that we all lived in a different place. I knew it was only a month and being in London was like living in a different world. When and if I came back, there wasn't a high probability of the people I grew so close to still being there.

My friends have joked that they're going to kidnap me and that I can live in one of their closets. And yes, it's that is mostly friendly banter among friends. But what if? What if I just took one more year and lived in that friend's closet? I've lived my life as the responsible student, what if I just broke down and lived on a friend's couch for the next year?

But then there's the fact that I also really want to be home. I want to have the chance to snuggle on my dogs whenever I want and watch Castle and The Amazing Race with my family without having interference and shoddy Skype picture and sound. I want to shop somewhere close to inexpensive and not spend thirty dollars a week on bread, lunch meat, and cookies. I want to have a real kitchen and cooking space.

So I feel lost. And I probably only an thinking about this because I have far, far too much time on my hands. Maybe I just need to lose myself in a reading haze and forget about life.