by - 18:53

So much shit to do.  So much to take care of.  So much before I move in 19 days.  19 days!

The packing has started, oh, has it ever.  My mind races from the moment I wake up in the morning until I muster up enough energy at the end of the day to shut it off.  The last time I had a big move was almost five years ago from Japan back Stateside.  And although Atlanta is really not that far at all, the move in and of itself is so different.  It feels different.  It feels necessary and good, hopeful and fresh.  It feels like I am meant to do this.  It is the start for bigger and better things to come.  I can feel it.

And yet, I am procrastinating like nobody's business.  I am taking my sweet little time to wrap things up and tie up loose ends.  I fear that I am, in fact, getting what I like to call break-up goggles.  "Break-up goggles?" you ask.  Why, yes.

Break-up goggles (n.)       1.  that feeling of nostalgia you get after you've decided on ending a relationship but you have not actually gone through with the act of breaking-up 2.  romanticized memories of something that had many good times but big reason things didn't work out.  3.  the act of justifying the bad in order to salvage the good.

Don't get me wrong:  I am not at all hating on Tampa.  The thing is, and it's really very simple, it's time to move on.  I hope I don't offend anyone by saying "move on".  By that I mean, I am picking up and dusting myself off the ground.  Sure, my knees and elbows got scratched up badly, they bled a lot, they hurt like hell, but look, ma, no broken bones.  I put bandaids and braces on them.  I picked the scabs at times.  I have battle scars.  And now, I'm peeling off the bandaids and noticing that I'm not bleeding as much as I used to.  I will always have the scars and I don't think I should cover them up.  After all, scars are pretty fucking badass; they're pretty cool.  They tell a story, and what a story I have!

Maybe one day A will ask me about them in a new place, a new time, a new and audacious life.  But she'll be asking not because she wants to hear a sad story.  She'll be asking because she knows she's the superhero in the story, the one who saved the day.


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  1. she really is quite the superhero, that little A.


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