Monday, July 11, 2011

Here I sit, again. Once again another curve ball and another decision to make. I've never felt like more of an adult, but then at the same time, I've never felt like more of a child. Life hit hard in May, and now we are half way through July and I have a decision to make. Do I move in September, or in January? This should be such a simple question, but like everything, there is way more complication that I wish.

January makes sense for many reasons. In January I could transfer with a stable job, maybe even in a higher position. By January there would be a lot of time spend with my family, helping my mom cope with the current situations, and spend time with my little brother.

In reality, my family is amazing and I know they can do it all on their own. In even more reality, my mother is pushing me to move. She says my life shouldn't stop because of the recent events, and I hate how much my heart agrees.

I want a new city to learn the streets of. New shops and forests to get lost in. I've been looking up things in Portland, Oregon all day long. A bookshop that covers three blocks. Coffee shops that are open 24 hours. Vintage shopping and farmers markets. Constant music, constant shows. I want the adventure that I feel I can find here. I want something new.

I turn twenty in a month and my life can't stop. And if it's not completely Portland, it will be Vancouver, all while living in Camas. Then eventually it will be Seattle. This feels selfish, but at the same time my mom is right, this can't cause my life to stop.