Garden, Keystone, Bluegrass, Lone Star

For the first time in my life, I stand on the precipice of moving beyond the horizon- but without some willing tie to that which I leave behind. My family is not here, my friends are scattered, and my coworkers are just that, if good ones. I have never encountered a situation such as this, where I journey onward without some heavy sense of mourning and loss.

Off to college, I left behind my first love (and didn't come back).

Off to work, I left behind my second love (and she moved on, too).

And now I sit before some intermediate but altogether major step. Will the work be good? What adventures are to be found? Whom will I meet? What good- and bad- will befall me in the coming twelve months, which I can scant but imagine right now?

In the past, I always found this type of change to be announced by some happenstance or distinct change in mood. A sudden urge to sleep outdoors as the wind changes. A chance meeting in a laundromat. A walk with a friend down an old hallway. This time there has been no vanguard to herald the arrival of another life transition. One day I will be here, the next I will be somewhere else.

So it is. Part of me misses the heavy feeling. And part of me ... feels elated. Bewildered.

Free.