This afternoon, I woke up sad. I say afternoon because I actually did wake up only in the afternoon at 1PM after having gone to bed at 6:30AM. For several minutes, the inaugural minutes of this August day, I didn’t know why I felt sad. After staring at the boxes and suitcases packed in one corner of my room, it hit me.
This is it. This is the end of the road and the beginning of a new one, or rather a familiar path that still hasn’t rubbed me the right way yet. Sometimes I don’t think it ever will, and that was okay before but now, without the option of coming back to revist the old, this new path is daunting.
I keep thinking about how much I didn’t get done, or how much I’m leaving behind and how, after a few days, this will all just be another memory and then… for what? For the right direction, I know, but then this complex feeling lingers and asks what is the right direction; if there is such a thing at all and when we find it, is it worth leaving everything that put together what made you yourself.
To make sure I’m not being dramatic or just exaggerating my circumstance, I asked friends to confirm on my sanity. Yes, it’s all still there and no, I’m not exaggerating; it truly does suck. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I didn’t know what was already waiting. And maybe it won’t be so bad anymore when I find myself that new path that can better all the current wrong.
That’s all I can hope for anyway.
My next post will be when I’m in Saint John. I’m not going to waste precious time typing out other posts on how exhaustingly sad this entire thing is.