Yesterday, I realized how hard it is to ask someone to understand your dreams. I decided after visiting my Godsister and the budding city of Edmonton for a weekend, I am going to move there. I decided that I couldn’t live here (Winnipeg) anymore. I was deeply unhappy, among other emotions, to be going back to this city when the trip was over because I was afraid of having to live the life I felt I had outgrown. Yesterday, I heard how much I wanted to carry out my ambition to move to Edmonton. I felt the hard work and sacrifice I was willing to put into the biggest decision of my 24 years of life, thus far. I knew I was going to do it, one way or another I would get myself there. On my own.
It’s hard to hear how much you’re willing to give up, how much you’re willing to risk for something that you care so much about it hurts, and have someone bring your drive and motivation into “logical perspective.” I had decided that I was going to do this on my own. In every sense of the word. I would work hard to save up, I would find myself a new home, a job to sustain me, and I would make sure that I go out there prepared to live a new beginning to another part of my life. I decided that I wasn’t going to plan out a plan b because I didn’t want that option. I had decided that this was something I was going to do and I wasn’t going to ask someone who I felt wasn’t worth asking to come with me, to come and bring down the stepping stone to my more independent life.
He decided he would join me, on his own accord.
So why is it so hard to look towards something that I know will happen? In the deepest of my heart, I know that I will be there by fall 2015 and I will only beat myself up, if I look back and see myself still here at that time because I know I didn’t try hard enough. Or I was just stupid enough to let someone decide for me that this was okay.
Yesterday, I heard myself trying to convince myself that I would be okay if I was here beyond the time frame I told myself I would be there for. Yesterday, I felt anxious and wretched, hearing myself say that if it wasn’t going to work out, I was willing to wait a little longer.
I’m not. I won’t wait. There was and will not be a plan b.
“Sorry, not sorry” is almost perfectly timed to be said here because I won’t be. I am not going to apologize for the time I am ready to go and I’m being asked to wait. My life is moving on with or without certain aspects of it that don’t want to move and grow up along with me.
Am I sad that it’s turning out this way? I am. I am sad because I was looking towards a future that had images of.. happiness in my mind. I am sad but that won’t stop me from deciding what’s best for me and if that takes me letting go of something for somewhere + someone better elsewhere.. that’s what life is sometimes.