I held back tears 3 times.
Once, when I hugged my friends and sister for the last time before I
left. I knew if I looked at them in the eye, if I hugged as tight as I wanted
to, if I said anything more, I would lose it.
And then once, when I was in the backseat, halfway to the airport. As my
parents went through a checklist of things I made sure to do upon arriving,
double checking that I got my wallet, phone, things like that to get their mind
off the pressing thought, what are we
doing sending our daughter alone to new york city?
And then again, when I hugged my dad before finally parting ways as I
got on the escalator.
And then I was fine.
But I would be lying if I didn’t think twice about my dad’s offer before
I left. At home, I laughed it off when he said, you can back out if you want, but then at my terminal they called,
group 4 boarding now, and just for a
second I thought, I could just not go…right
now I could just walk away. I could call
dad and he would pick me up without question, wouldn’t even say a word, and I would
just quietly and safely go back home and things would be easy and I’d be comfortable
again.
And just for a second the thought enticed me, and the thing about those
last minute thoughts is that they rarely ever include the part where you’re
actually back home and the self-hatred sets in. The voice that says, coward.
While I walked on the plane with dry eyes, I still felt a coward.
Because I wish I had left with a real goodbye. Because I wish I didn’t have to
fight tears. Because I wish I could’ve been in the room today instead of
mentally elsewhere, knowing I was going to leave.
But the truth is, while I may feel a coward, I got on the plane, and
that’s a significant thing as any because some days I struggle to even get out
of bed.
I struggle to think that things will ever get better.
I struggle to want to want to do anything.
I struggle with feeling like I’m enough.
I struggle with resenting the people I’m closest to, because I also
struggle with comparison.
And I could go on.
But right now, I think I need nothing more than being alone and away for
3 weeks. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard for me to leave. I’m so afraid to take
on these things that have planted such deep roots in me. I’m afraid to let
myself break into the million little pieces that are barely taped together. I’m
afraid to let God back in.
But I want nothing more than to feel Him right now.
So maybe I’m a coward, and maybe I’m a fraud who talks of big adventures
and great courage.
So what. I’m trying.
Good God, I’m trying.
Hell, if that doesn’t take the most courage.
-S
